A Berserk Hunt
by invisiblewing
Summary: Dagur has enlisted Hiccup and Stoick to aid in a hunt for a Night Fury on Berserker Island using the peace treaty between the two tribes as leverage.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** _ **How to Train Your Dragon**_ **belongs to Dreamworks.**

 **This story is rated T for graphic descriptions. No profanity. The story occurs within the frame of _Riders/Defenders of Berk_ but is independent of the TV series.**

 **Comments, suggestions and reviews are always welcome. Thanks for reading!**

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"Okay, good!" I shouted across the arena. "Now reward her with a fish." I waited for a few seconds for the Nadder to take the fish out of his hand. "Try it again, see if she responds more quickly this time." He spread his arms wide suddenly, opening his chest to the Deadly Nadder in front of him. She looked at him for a beat, then spread her wings wide, head thrown slightly back, and cackled.

"Another fish," I said. He reached into the basket and pulled out another fish. The Nadder smelled what was coming and immediately swooped her head down, grabbing the fish with dexterous ease and pulling it from his hand. The dragon swallowed.

"Good!" I called out again.

Gustav turned around to face me, his helmet wobbling like usual around on the top of his head. "See? I _told_ you I could…"

My eyes widened slightly. I could only get out "Uh…" before the dragon nudged him in the back with her snout, demanding more of his attention. Gustav stumbled forward in surprise, then turned back around to face his dragon.

"Gustav, you can't just break off your attention like that," I told him. "You have to taper so she knows what's coming."

"For the billionth time, I don't understand what you're saying!" he shouted back in a nasal whine. His expression was directed toward the Nadder.

I felt the color begin to drain from my face. "Gustav, take a step away from her," I said quickly.

"Geez, why are you so bossy all of a sudden?" he asked in irritation, turning back toward me.

"Gustav, just do it now."

"Why!?" he shouted. "All you're gonna do is tell me how bad I am at- WHOA!" The dragon whipped her tail around, smacking him in the chest, and sending him barreling toward me. Her statement of being through with Gustav for now.

Gustav let out a long, pained groan as he slowly stood. His helmet tumbled to a stop about five feet in front of him. He had no spikes lodged in his chest, which was a relief.

"I suppose you're going to listen to me from now on?" I asked, rubbing it in.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he said, rolling his eyes. He slowly rose to his feet, trying to show me how injured he was, and limped over to his helmet. He snatched it up and placed it back on his head. And as usual, it sank down about halfway over his eyes.

I groaned in frustration. "Look, Gustav, you can't half-commit to a dragon. That's exactly what you did with Fanghook. So if you actually want to do this, you're going to follow the dragon's rules. Not mine, not yours. And that means you have to be totally committed to her."

"But how did you tame Toothless so easily?" he whined.

" _Easily?_ I think 'patiently' is the right word. I let him warm up to me. I let him make the rules. And I made sure Toothless felt safe around me."

"Okay! I _am_ trying to do that, you know."

I stifled a laugh. Didn't try to hide it. "You aren't even close to making an effort. If you can show that dragon she can trust you with her life, then I might buy what you're saying."

"Hiccup, you're saying things I don't understand! How in the world am I supposed to show her she can 'trust me with her life?'" he asked, slurring that last phrase in mockery.

"You have to find that out yourself."

"Oooh, so mysterious," he said, continuing his mocking tone of voice. "If you're so smart, how did _you_ do that with Toothless?"

"I stayed near him when I was around. Never let my attention wander. Made sure to bring food and water for him. And I had conversations with him."

Gustav wrinkled his face in a mixture of disgust and confusion. "That's stupid. He doesn't talk back."

"But he knows I'm talking to him," I pointed out.

"So, what did you tell him? Like, 'Hey how's the weather?'" he asked sarcastically.

"You have to open up to your dragon. Tell her the deepest darkest secrets you'd never tell anyone else. She won't spread them."

"Right now?"

"Only if you really mean it," I warned. "You can't just talk to her to listen to your own voice."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I thought for a moment. Explanations weren't getting us anywhere. Maybe an example would work. I took a deep breath, mulling it over in my mind before deciding on it. "When I was supposed to do my rite of passage, I didn't want anyone else to know about Toothless. I knew anyone who saw him would have killed him without a second thought." I paused, trying to find a way to say this without looking like I was completely helpless. But I couldn't find a way. I decided to leave a few details out for good measure, though. "The night before I was supposed to kill a dragon, I was so scared I was going to lose Toothless I couldn't even walk straight. So I told him everything. Including how scared I was."

Gustav was silent for a moment. "Some chief _you'll_ be," he said quietly. And walked out of the arena, leaving me with an irate dragon.

At thirteen years old, Gustav was still impressionable, but Snotlout had done phenomenal work at creating a spitting image of himself. I sighed, knowing as long as he was gonna act this way, there wasn't much I could do at helping him befriend a dragon. He was doing everything he could to maintain a tough-guy image, which would never do him any favors at getting him a dragon friend. Or a girlfriend for that matter.

Fanghook deserved better than what he got. But Gustav wanted more than anything to become like Snotlout. He learned Snotlout's mannerisms, including his obnoxious and inappropriate behavior. He learned from Snotlout that dragons were things to be objectifed, rather than part of a village. Part of families, even. Caring for a dragon was a lifelong commitment, and Gustav just didn't want to see that. He neglected several times to feed Fanghook or take him out for flights. He barely socialized with that dragon, so one day, Fanghook simply flew off, never to be seen again.

It was a hard lesson for him to learn, because I'd never seen anyone that torn between preserving his image and breaking down into a ball of tears. Gustav was doing everything he could to maintain that image, even though I could see the hurt in his eyes that his dragon had deserted him. And, silly me, I thought it would have been an opportunity for him to learn something about dragons. Well, except for that one fact that he was looking up to Snotlout.

I didn't know whether to be offended or frustrated at Gustav for his comment about me being a lousy future chief. I quickly decided to stop thinking about it and see if I could use the Deadly Nadder on my right to ease the feelings I had.

Slowly, I trudged my way over to her. She was a beautiful, light-green backed dragon. Looked similar to Stormfly, except for the color on her back. She was also a little more jumpy than Stormfly, so I took it slow, letting her see I wasn't a threat. I wished I could have found a calmer Nadder for Gustav, but this was the best I could do. Astrid had immediately vetoed my idea of using Stormfly to teach Gustav about training dragons.

The dragon reared back slightly and opened her mouth a little. Threat display. She was still on-edge from her encounter with Gustav. I waited, letting her decide what to do. When a dragon puts on a defensive posture, you do _not_ approach. That's a recipe for an attack. If the dragon intensifies its actions toward you, you simply back away and either give it space or leave entirely.

So I waited some more, keeping my attention on her. I was waiting to see if she opened her mouth a little more. Or maybe she'd turn her body slightly, getting her tail ready for an attack. Both of those would be my cue to leave her alone.

But she did neither of those things. Instead, she slowly closed her mouth, keeping me in her eyesight. I slowly approached, not offering a hand, as she'd quickly bite it off. I didn't say a word either. They didn't seem to help with unfamiliar dragons, even if you had the sweetest, softest tone ever imagined.

The Nadder's breathing quickened slightly, so I stopped for a moment to let her tension release slightly. Approached again. She tensed, so I waited. And finally, I got close enough to touch her side.

I put my hand on her thigh, keeping a gentle touch and also keeping my movements to a minimum. Slow, steady movements if necessary. I felt the dragon's tension slowly release as she relaxed under my touch. She gave a quiet warble after a few minutes, telling me I wasn't in any danger from her, as long as I kept doing what I was doing.

"Let's get you out of here," I told her. I walked sideways, keeping eye contact with the dragon. She hesitantly followed me, slowly walking through the gateway toward Berk. Looked around for a moment, then cackled slightly and took off. I would have been willing to bet she was grateful for the freedom.

I sighed, knowing it was gonna be a long time before Gustav could accept what I was trying to explain to him. There was no way he'd have the patience he needed to be around a dragon.

Maybe it was me. I wondered if my explanations really were a foreign language to Gustav. Perhaps I could find a different way to explain dragons to him.

Walking back toward the village, I wondered if there was any hope at all for Gustav. Maybe, but it would definitely take him a long time…

Time.

That was it. Well, hopefully. I remembered when I was spending afternoons with Toothless in secret. I'd be away from Berk for several hours on end, spending time with Toothless. I realized I had plenty of unpleasant experiences with Toothless, just like what happened to Gustav today. It was frustrating at times, but in the end, all the effort was definitely worth it because I could say my best friend was a Night Fury.

I rolled my eyes in secret, sighing. I was the problem, not Gustav. I was solving everything for him. But I was so protective of the dragons we had around that I was making the rules for everyone, instead of letting people learn, even if it meant a few bumps and bruises. In true Hiccup fashion, I was scared of someone hurting a dragon.

I should have let Gustav address the problem on his own when the Nadder bumped him in the back. Instead of me telling him what was correct, he'd be able to feel what was correct. The difference between those two ideas is about as wide as an ocean.

I walked past the forge and noticed black smoke curling from the chimney. I paused some distance away from the forge and turned around. I liked the routine and (dis)organization of my little study in there. It was almost ironic compared to the neatness of the rest of the forge and armory. I heard sharp, rhythmic clanking from somewhere inside, probably at the anvil. Gobber was hard at work shaping a piece of iron. I listened to the hammer striking iron for a few seconds, but was distracted soon after by a chill wind. Winter was on its way out, which meant it wouldn't take long to return with a vengeance. But for now, it was clinging tightly to the air with its last fingernail.

I shivered as I began walking again. For a brief moment, I wondered why I didn't bring Toothless with me to help Gustav understand what I wanted him to learn. I had taken two steps when I nearly stopped and was a split-second from doubling over in sarcastic laughter.

 _Good one, Hiccup,_ I thought to myself. _That was almost funny._

I didn't bring Toothless with me because Gustav didn't understand how lucky I was to find, much less befriend, a Night Fury. And using Toothless as an example would have only reinforced to him that he'd need to cripple a dragon for it to befriend him.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my flying vest for show and looked around for anyone who might have noticed me stumble. Nobody was giving me a bizarre look, so I simply continued in my trek to the great hall as if nothing was wrong.

I filled a basket with fish for Toothless at the great hall and left without a word. Carried it up the hill to my house. I opened the door and walked in.

As soon as Toothless noticed me, his head shot up with a grunt. He sprang from his spot and bounded over to me in elation. I smiled, putting the basket down. The door closed itself behind me. I put my right hand on his cheek, letting him know he was still important to me. Toothless nudged into my chest with his snout, returning my gesture. This was one of those surreal moments where we communicated with emotions. For just a few seconds, the world seemed to disappear. I felt Toothless' gentle pressure on my chest and stayed there for a moment.

The door suddenly opened a second time, abruptly yanking my mind away from Toothless. My dad walked in with a gruff sigh, oblivious to what was going on between me and Toothless.

I let my hand fall to my side and dutifully grabbed the basket. I led Toothless over to the large wooden table we had in the center of the house and tipped it over.

Just like usual, Toothless dug in. He pulled a fish out of the pile and stared at me intently for a few seconds. Swallowed it and grunted. And returned to the basket without another sound.

I watched my dad as he shuffled over to a chair and inelegantly sat down. Grace in movement was certainly not something he was good at. He nodded at me slightly and mumbled, "Hiccup."

I nodded back at him. If he had a conversation planned, he'd say something else, but for tonight, there wasn't anything pressing on his mind. Well, at least for him to say. His eyes were slightly lost in thought, so today must have been more difficult than average for him.

Toothless cleaned the basket out and loped over to me, rubbing his head underneath my left hand. He sighed happily as I gently scratched behind his ears. I relaxed slightly, letting the world disappear from the present for now. Toothless and Astrid were the only ones who could get me to relax like this.

I glanced at my dad before opening the door to let Toothless out. He didn't do anything except stare at the table for a few seconds before turning toward a large cauldron set over the fire in the hearth. Supper time. I thought his actions were a little out of the ordinary. Most of the time, my dad was very purposeful in his movements, but today, he seemed a little…off.

I shrugged slightly, making a mental note to eat something later. Probably what he was cooking. I turned toward the door and opened it, letting Toothless walk out. I followed him.

As I closed the door behind us, Toothless grunted and took off in excitement. He bounded over to Stormfly, who was walking up the hill toward my house with Astrid. Toothless skidded to a halt in front of Stormfly and growled playfully, his legs hunched beneath him. He was trying to goad her into a game of chase. She hunkered down and lunged at Toothless, who took off running, Stormfly following him close behind.

I watched our two dragons chase each other for a moment before returning my attention to Astrid.

"Milady," I said in mock deference. I bowed slightly in her direction.

Astrid had a wry smile on her face and her hands on her hips. "I thought I told you to stop that," she said in half-jest.

"You did," I said back. "And I'm still wondering if I should call someone else that."

"Nah. I guess it's not that bad," she quickly conceded.

Both of us smiled at each other. And after a few seconds, we both broke down giggling. There were certain points in time when I was grateful for not having "grown up." This was one of those times.

Toothless and Stormfly caught my attention. They were still in a game of chase, Toothless in front and Stormfly in back. I heard Toothless grunting with every step he took, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. His eyes were wide in happiness as he sprinted past us. Stormfly wasn't too far behind him, cackling every so often.

"They're cute," Astrid observed. I nodded in agreement. I watched our dragons run around for a few moments, wishing I could have the same sense of abandon they did.

"Hey, I saw you with Gustav in the Academy," Astrid said after a few seconds.

I rolled my eyes before turning to her. "Yeah, that was fun," I said sardonically.

"Is anyone hurt?"

I shrugged. "Not really. The dragon slapped him with her tail, but that was about it."

Astrid laughed for a second. "He's improving, isn't he?"

"Not even maybe. All he does is look at Snotlout and see how he treats Hookfang. I don't know how Hookfang even puts up with him. But Gustav has it set in his mind that Snotlout is pretty much a god, so he does everything he can to be like him."

"And he doesn't understand why dragons don't like him," she concluded.

"Congratulations!" I half-shouted in sarcasm, throwing my arms up. "You've just won the game!"

"Yeah, I can tell it's getting to you," Astrid pointed out. "Maybe you should just, you know, keep him out of the Academy."

"That's not gonna stop him from getting his hands on a dragon again," I said. I turned around, looking for our dragons. "Speaking of which…"

"That way," Astrid said flatly, pointing up the hill.

Toothless and Stormfly were both lying on the grass, exhausted for the time being from their little game of chase.

I started walking up the hill without saying anything. Toothless flopped over to his front side as I approached and stared at me. Stormfly followed a few seconds later as Astrid got into her field of vision.

"Hiya, bud," I said to Toothless. I stroked his cheek as I walked around to his saddle and hooked in. "Let's go flying."

Toothless grunted and got onto all fours. Just before he tensed, Astrid said, "We're coming too."

As Toothless launched into the air, I remembered Stormfly had probably worn him out somewhat. I was guessing this would be a short flight to get rid of the rest of his pent-up energy.

A few minutes later, my prediction held up. Toothless flew almost on a beeline toward a rocky arch sticking out of the ocean. He landed on top with a hollow _ka-thump_ and lay down on his front, breathing heavily. I was grateful for a short flight, so I could simply relax and enjoy the rest of the day. Didn't have to think about anything as the sun continued on its journey across the sky.

Stormfly landed a few seconds later with a cackle, followed by Astrid dismounting. Astrid walked toward me and sat down on the grass.

It didn't make much sense to me that there was grass on the top of this rocky arch in the middle of the ocean, but I pushed the thought out of my head for now. Strange things happen every day in this bizarre world, and a curiosity like that just wasn't pressing enough to worry about.

"You ever wonder why there's grass growing here?" Astrid said after a few seconds. She completely ruined the logic I had come up with just now.

"Mm, sometimes," I said. "Doesn't make much sense, does it?"

She shook her head and looked toward the horizon. I got off Toothless's back and sat down next to her.

"How often do you come up here?" she asked.

"Whenever Toothless feels like it," I said simply. "I let him decide where we're going…most of the time."

Astrid looked at Toothless. Toothless looked back at her and blinked. I grinned slightly, then returned my attention to the horizon.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Astrid's face creeping closer to me. After a moment, she whispered, " _Hiccup_." I turned toward her, caught completely off-guard, and she darted in for a quick kiss. "You're too predictable," she said playfully.

I grinned. "Thanks, Astrid." I said it in half-sarcasm. After a moment, I glanced back toward the west. And focused my gaze on a spot in the distance. "Hey, do you see that?" I asked Astrid.

"…Yeah," she said slowly. "Why?"

"Wonder who that is," I said without thinking.

Astrid didn't say anything. Both of us simply waited in silence, watching the figure draw closer. Maybe five minutes later, she announced, "I think it's Trader Johann."

I rolled my eyes slightly. Another hundred exaggerated tales about some near-death experience he narrowly escaped. But most everyone in Berk liked him, so I didn't have a choice but to tolerate him.

A few more minutes of waiting gave us a definite answer. It _was_ Trader Johann. Several Vikings milling around Berk excitedly ran down the docks, ready to help Johann moor his boat. Then the search for knickknacks would start.

Predictably, Johann's boat tied up without much trouble, and several Vikings quickly boarded, searching for that perfect little trinket. Astrid and I weren't too far away, so we could pick out several words being exchanged.

My dad walked down to the docks, where Johann spotted him. They greeted each other, and Johann said, "Stoick. I have something for you."


	2. Chapter 2

My dad certainly knew how to act. Only half an hour ago, he was distressed about something, and now, he was standing with Trader Johann like there was nothing wrong. Johann was running his mouth like usual, and my dad was standing with him, listening. Johann was making some grandiose movements with his arms and hands. Probably another exaggerated tale about something mundane, but I didn't really want to listen to him.

As Toothless and I approached, Johann turned his attention to us. "Ah, Master Hiccup! Good to see you again. I was just telling your father about my recent visit to Berserker Island. Such a beautiful place…although Berk definitely is prettier."

Typical Johann. Laying it on thick. I nodded in mock understanding and realized I was acting. Just like my dad a few seconds ago.

"I'm sure Dagur was happy to see you," I said. I was trying to not be normal Hiccup and turn this into an awkward conversation. If Johann had just one talent, it was his ability to make conversation about nothing.

"Oh, yes. He gave me a small cask of his favorite mead as a keepsake. It's very good, if you would like to try some."

"Uh, no. But thanks," I said to him. I had seen what happened when we tried to combine alcohol and dragons, and it was one of the worst nights of my life. That stupid Arvendole's Festival (or whatever you call it) had no doubt permanently soured my taste for ale or mead.

Toothless nudged his way past me and approached Johann. I watched as my dragon looked him up and down before whuffing in approval.

"Yes, you know who this is," I said to Toothless. He was being awfully cautious around Johann, which I thought was odd. Toothless was familiar with Johann and generally tolerated him, so it must have been some foreign smell that caught his attention. Probably from Berserker Island.

"Oh, my. Master Hiccup, your dragon is a sight to behold," Johann said, oozing compliments.

"Thank you," I said back. And left it at that.

I watched as Johann slowly moved his right hand and scratched Toothless under his chin. Toothless closed his eyes and murmured softly, telling Johann he liked what he was doing.

After a few seconds, Johann stopped and slowly turned toward my dad. Toothless sighed happily and shuffled back over to my side. Within seconds, he began rubbing his head against my shoulder, asking for more attention.

"All right, fine," I said sarcastically. I gave in and turned my attention to Toothless, knuckling into the top of his head.

"Right, Stoick. Like I said, Dagur asked me to deliver this to you." Johann produced a sheet of parchment and handed it to my dad. I watched as he took it from Johann and began reading. After about a minute, his shoulders slumped just a little. "Dagur would like to remind you that the peace treaty between your two tribes is due to be renewed. Or renegotiated."

A weight dropped in my stomach. My hand fell away from Toothless, out of my control. The sudden movement surprised him slightly. He nudged into my shoulder again, asking me to keep petting him. But I couldn't drag my attention back.

The peace treaty. I shuddered, thinking back to all of the bizarre and horrendous experiences I had with Dagur when he visited Berk. I never had to travel to Berserker Island, thankfully, because the limited contacts I had with him here were more than enough.

And what made it all worse was that I had to be a "good sport" about all of his antics when he visited Berk. Sure, just _let_ him throw knives at my forehead for target practice. Just _let_ him force feed Fishlegs overcooked eels. It seemed the Berserkers always caught us between a rock and a hard place. If we don't keep them happy, they attack and destroy the village. As volatile as they were, it only took one misstep for them to destroy a village. And they decided when you misstepped.

I heard my dad sigh in defeat and mutter, "Thank you, Johann."

"You are most welcome, Stoick," Johann replied. "I assume you will be offering the usual room and board for the night?" he asked almost too directly.

"Yes," my dad said quietly. "You can stay with us." He turned around and made eye contact with me. Held up the parchment, although I couldn't read it. But I knew it was a signal that I had something to do with it. "We need to talk about this tonight, Hiccup."

"Uh, okay…?" I said awkwardly.

Toothless had apparently given up on asking me for attention because I caught a glimpse of him bugging another villager for his affection as my dad walked past. "You can be so weird, Toothless," I whispered under my breath.

I walked toward Toothless and gently placed a hand under his left wing. He grunted slightly and turned to see who it was. "Come on, bud," I said to him.

"Tell him he can visit anytime!" the Viking called after me. He was referring to Toothless. I rolled my eyes and smirked as we began walking, grateful we were turned away from him.

Toothless and I plodded up the docks and walked the entire way home. I knew what that letter had in store for me probably wasn't good, so Toothless and I took our time reaching the door. But I couldn't walk slow enough to take forever, so I pushed open the door and quietly walked in with Toothless.

I sat down at the table across from my dad. Toothless padded past me and curled up near the hearth with a quiet murmur, his way of saying he was content.

"I'll let you read this," my dad said quietly. He passed the parchment to me, so I read it over. I squinted for a few seconds, trying to decipher the almost-illegible handwriting scrawled haphazardly on the parchment.

 _Piece Treaty between the Berserker Tribe and the Berk Tribe_

 _The anual renewal of our piece treaty arives, and as custemary, its your turn to vsit our welcom hom. The curent cheif of the Berk Tribe to be in attendence, and a second representitive. We will discus the terms of are treaty over the coarse of to days, which will also used to show_ _all our hospitible iland. It is encuraged or rekwire to join for festivites wich are very spechal this year._

 _We perffer the two representitives of Berk are Stoik the Fast and Hicup Horendus Hadok II. If they is curently avalable._

 _We eagerly wait your arivel._

 _Dagur the Deranged_

"Wow," I announced, rolling my eyes and not knowing what to think. I made an exaggerated show of blinking several times, hoping the writing would magically change to something halfway intelligible. "Was that their best scribe?" I asked rhetorically. My dad shrugged. "They speak perfectly fine. The writer had to be drunk."

"If you don't go, they'll probably go to war with us," my dad said quietly. He completely ignored my conclusion about the writer being drunk.

"What?" I read through the letter again, wincing nearly as bad the second time about all the errors. My stomach dropped as I read their request for both me and my dad. And my name was still misspelled. "Oh. No." I paused for a moment. "Oh. No."

My dad nodded slowly. "I can't go to Berserker Island without you anymore," he said, although I didn't need his translation.

"Why do we even have to do this…this," I paused, searching for the right words. "This _peace_ treaty!?" I shouted, slurring the word "peace."

"We don't have a choice," my dad said. "It's our job to protect Berk. If we don't honor their treaty, they'll go to war with us."

"This is so stupid!" I continued. I shot up to a standing position and threw my arms up. Toothless watched me with worried interest. "They're nothing but sadists! They write the treaty so they can use us!"

"Would you rather have them kill us?" my dad asked.

I stopped my rant. I knew from the beginning of my tirade that it would be useless, but anger got the better of me. I sighed in defeat. "No," I conceded.

"Exactly."

"But why can't _we_ write the treaty? Why can't we just say, 'Sign this and stay out of each others' way'?"

"Hiccup, you know the Berserkers don't care about what anyone else says. They define the terms because it's the only way to keep them away from us. They have a better chance of honoring what they write."

"And they can just as easily ignore it later and go to war with us," I mused flatly.

My dad glared at me, which was just as intimidating when he was seated as when he was standing. "We're leaving tomorrow morning," he said. End of conversation.

I sighed again, my shoulders drooping. "Fine."

After a few seconds of silence, I walked toward the door and left the house. Sat down in the grass about twenty feet away from our stoop, just enough off the beaten path to be out of everyone's way. I pulled my knees close to my chest and took a deep breath. My breath came out as a faint cloud of steam, reminding me yet again we weren't quite finished with winter yet.

The sky was beautiful this evening. Some of it was hidden by clouds that took on a red-to-orange hue from the sunset. I wanted to simply enjoy it, but our date with the Berserkers was set and had a stranglehold on my mind.

A hollow _ka-thump_ behind me and to my right caught my attention. After a second, Toothless came trotting out from the side of the house and sat down next to me.

"Hey, bud," I said quietly. He lay down, facing the same direction as I was, so I stroked along his neck, listening to him murmur quietly.

After a few moments, Toothless sighed and closed his eyes. His actions added to the serenity of the view, and it actually felt peaceful for a fleeting moment. He was working his magic, just like he always did.

I relaxed, watching the clouds and surrounding sky slowly change colors, becoming darker as the evening wore on. I lost most of my track of time, thanks to the Night Fury next to me.

Toothless was breathing rhythmically, and it almost seemed to be in time with the skylights that were beginning to fade into view. Like he had control over their swirling patterns. I watched as they grew stronger, feeling like I could both see and hear them as they moved in their nightly dance. Toothless took a deep breath and sighed, but it didn't have any effect on the skylights. They continued moving lazily, drifting aimlessly across the sky. So much for the illusion he had built up for the last few minutes.

"Master Hiccup!" a voice called from about thirty feet away. Even if he hadn't called me that name, I still would have been able to recognize his voice. I rolled my eyes in slight irritation, thankful it was dark enough to hide that movement. And turned toward the source of the voice.

Trader Johann was walking up the hill toward our house. Apparently, everyone on Berk had finished with the knickknacks for now.

 _Please don't sit down here,_ I thought at Johann. I didn't want to have anything to do with him for the time being. Not only because he loved to exaggerate his stories about his mundane travels, but also because he had condemned me to Berserker Island.

He must have pieced together most of my thought because he sat down to my left. I guessed the word "don't" wasn't thought quite strong enough.

"Master Hiccup," Johann began with a deep breath. I braced myself for a long story. "I want to thank you for what you did this winter."

I was looking away from Johann as he said this, ready for another bizarre tale, but what he said caught me completely off-guard. So naturally, I turned toward him and asked, "Excuse me?"

"This," he clarified, pulling up his right pants leg. Before I could say or do anything, he showed me the three scarred gashes on his right calf. "You saved my life that day. And I can't thank you enough for it."

Silence filled my mouth as I was forced to remember that ordeal with the Speed Stingers. But I also knew I had to choose my words carefully. It would have been pretty easy to sound like an idiot, but I was already doing a great job at it. I was quiet for just long enough to feel awkward. Typical Hiccup.

Eventually, I forced a single word out of my mouth. "Anytime," I said.

"You were very brave to take on those dragons like you did. I want to do something to repay you. And you mustn't decline it."

I paused for a second. "All right," I said with a smirk. "I'll play your little game. How about I ask you a few questions?"

"Ask away, Master Hiccup. Ask away."

"What do the Berserkers think about dragons?" I asked.

"Excellent question, Master Hiccup. I do know for a fact that the Berserkers love to kill dragons. Dagur the Deranged hunts them for sport. He was kind enough to tell me that he wanted to hunt down a Night Fury."

"Oh. That's…nice," I said, not trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

"Oh, Master Hiccup. That's not everything. Dagur let slip on my second night at Berserker Island that there is a Night Fury there. It lives underground, and no man who has ventured down to its lair has returned to tell the tale."

I was a split-second from asking Johann how clichéd he sounded with that yarn. But I held my tongue and changed course. "He's found a Night Fury…underground…" I repeated.

"Yes, Master Hiccup. Underground. He told me the dragon doesn't have any wings and cannot fly."

I looked at Toothless and then Back at Johann. Looked at Toothless again. "You do realize you're next to a Night Fury, right?"

"Yes, Master Hiccup. I believe…"

"You didn't tell him about Toothless, did you?" I asked quickly, interrupting him.

"No, not at all. You are too protective of Toothless for me to divulge _that_ information. Dagur does know that there is a Night Fury on Berk, though."

"He's known that for a year," I said, brushing that fact aside.

"I snuck out late that second night to see if I could find the dragon," he started. I rolled my eyes, half expecting some hyperbolic I-just-barely-escaped-with-my-life tale. "When I went underground, there was nothing but several tunnels leading in different directions. They were much smaller than what Toothless could make if he could dig." Johann paused for a very brief second and then continued. "Some of the surfaces in those tunnels were coated with a thick, sticky material."

I looked at Johann in the soft green light for a second, then looked at Toothless, who was resting with his head on his paws. He sighed. I looked at Johann again. "Okay," I finally said, prompting him to continue.

"Well, as I was returning to the village, Dagur stopped me and asked if I wanted to hunt down that Night Fury. I told him no, because of the state of my leg." Johann motioned toward his gashed leg.

"Did you show him your leg?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. He knew I'd be too slow to get out of those caves if we needed to escape." He paused for a second. Leaned in and dropped his voice to a near-whisper. "Even though I'm mostly healed," he said with a wry grin, like he was trying to keep a secret from someone who was eavesdropping.

"That was…considerate," I observed, slightly surprised that Dagur was thinking favorably about someone who wasn't a Berserker. I also noticed Johann wasn't exaggerating. If he was, this time was actually believable.

"We never saw that dragon. But Master Hiccup, I think Dagur will try to take you and Stoick underground to hunt whatever is lurking down there. As I was leaving Berserker Island, that was all he talked about."

"Wonderful," I said, rolling my eyes.

I turned toward Toothless and stroked along his cheek. He sighed in contentment. _I'm glad Dagur doesn't know the truth about Toothless_ , I thought.

I heard Johann open his mouth for a yawn. He stood and said, "Thank you for the conversation, Master Hiccup. I do believe it is time for me to turn in for the night."

"You're welcome," I said.

I grinned slightly. I had a conversation with Johann that was only semi-awkward. For a moment, I was proud of myself, at least until I realized my dad and I would be setting sail toward Berserker Island tomorrow morning.

"C'mon, bud," I said to Toothless, knuckling into the top of his head. He groaned softly and stood, arching his back in a stretch. I stood as well and began walking toward home, Toothless in tow.


	3. Chapter 3

I didn't want to get up today. This coming week was going to be nothing but bad, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't even pretend to convince myself to have a little faith this trip wouldn't be so bad. There was no point.

I sighed heavily as I stood from my bed, Toothless watching me from his rock. I washed my face using water stored in the basin nearby and hoped to wake up somewhat. I had barely slept through the night because I was worried about what nightmares awaited me and my dad on Berserker Island.

Water slowly dripped from my face as I stared at my reflection in the basin. The ripples from the droplets turned my face and hair into wavy patterns for a few seconds before calming down and revealing the same stressed Hiccup again. I wiped the rest of the water from my face, breaking the staring contest with myself. For the record, it ended in a tie.

I was up early enough to hopefully give Toothless a flight and then breakfast. Then I'd leave him in the care of the only person on Berk I could fully trust to keep him safe: Astrid.

"C'mon, bud. Let's go flying," I said to Toothless as I walked down the stairs.

Toothless perked and jumped off his rock. He grunted once he reached my back, slightly frustrated that he couldn't go any faster because I was blocking his path down the stairs. As soon as I reached the landing, he bounded around me and stopped at the door. His eyes were wide in anticipation as I slowly made my way toward him. Normally, I enjoyed immersing myself in his little routine, but today I couldn't do it. This morning was going to be perfunctory for me.

I reached around Toothless to pull the door open. He leapt outside with a grunt, a faint plume of steam coming from his mouth. Just like the evenings, the mornings were still a little cold as winter was on its way out.

I climbed onto Toothless' back and hooked in with my peg. Like usual, he gave me almost no warning that he was taking off, but I was used to it. Flying with Toothless was almost a second nature to me, so I barely thought about holding onto his saddle. It was all instinct. Just like feeling his subtle cues for turning and adjusting his altitude.

I let Toothless decide where he wanted to go. Wasn't even thinking about flying anyway. Our little date with the Berserkers was stuck in my head and wouldn't leave.

Once Toothless started making a beeline toward the great hall for breakfast, I finally realized I had missed most of the flight. Couldn't even remember where we had been or how many barrel rolls we had done. If any. Toothless landed cleanly, and I dismounted, pulling the great hall doors open for him. He galloped into the great hall. Within a few seconds, I found Astrid sitting with Stormfly about halfway between the main entrance and our stock of fish in the back.

"Hiccup!" she said as Toothless startled her from behind. She glanced at our dragons to make sure nothing crazy was happening then turned her attention toward me.

"Hey," I said back. And continued walking past her. I filled a basket with fish for Toothless and returned to her table. Placed the basket in front of Toothless, where he began eating.

I sat down across from Astrid with a cooked fish in front of me and began forcing it down.

"All right, Hiccup. What's going on?" she asked.

A few seconds passed when I realized she had asked me a question. She was staring at me too intently to simply want small talk. "Did you say something?" I finally said as my mind pieced a few things together.

"Are…are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah…I'm fine…" I lied, but it wasn't convincing.

"No, you're not. What's going on?"

I sighed, my mouth full of fish that I couldn't taste. I swallowed and told her. "My dad and I are going to Berserker Island today. We have to renew the peace treaty."

Her face wrinkled in disgust. " _You_ have to go too?"

I nodded. "They specifically asked for me and my dad."

"Too bad your father doesn't have Thornado anymore. You could make it a quick…what?" She noticed my eyes growing wide in terror after that little suggestion.

"They still hunt and kill dragons over there," I stated.

"How do you know…oh. Never mind. Last year."

"Yeah…They'll never believe that 'dragon attack' was a fake if we show up with a saddle on Toothless."

"So you get to sail to their island," she concluded.

I nodded.

"Want me to take care of Toothless?" she asked, reading my mind.

I looked at Toothless, who was just finishing his basket of fish. He shoved his head into the basket, searching for any morsels that had escaped him for now. Satisfied, he brought his head back up with the basket still firmly attached. Both of us watched as Toothless used a front paw to pry the basket off his head, where it fell and rolled for a brief second on the floor. Astrid giggled at his production. I smirked a little.

"Yeah. If you don't mind," I said, still looking at Toothless. He crept up to me, asking for attention. I reached out a hand and knuckled gently into the top of his head. He closed his eyes and rumbled happily.

"Shouldn't be too hard," she stated.

"I would hope so." I was going to leave it at that when a thought hit me. "You'll need to ask Gobber to make a stirrup for you." Dropped my voice to a whisper and leaned across the table. "He'll need to fly around the island."

"Why are you whispering?" Astrid asked.

"So that Toothless doesn't hear me about F-L-Y-I-N-G," I said, trying to avoid making an empty promise to my dragon.

Astrid looked at me in realization. "He knows that word, doesn't he?"

I nodded. "Seriously. Don't say it around him and then leave him alone."

"Okay. I'll make sure of it." She looked at Toothless, who was still nudging into my shoulder. Still asking for attention. For some reason today, he was especially affectionate. "He just eats fish, right?" she asked, beginning to cover all of his basic requirements.

I nodded. "No eels," I clarified. Astrid grinned slightly.

Astrid looked at Toothless again. "I can handle this for a week," she told me. She was absolutely sure of herself.

"Good," I said with a small sigh.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. The white noise from around us filled the great hall with Vikings milling about, eating or having conversations about nothing.

My attention was snagged by my dad and Johann walking toward us. As usual, Johann was spinning some yarn again, trying to impress anyone who would listen.

"…You'd never believe it, Stoick! He really _was_ that tall! At least ten feet! Just make sure you don't visit their home unannounced, because he'll be the first one to 'greet' you."

"Uh-huh," my dad replied. His tone of voice told me he wasn't particularly interested in what Johann was saying. As they passed us, my dad looked at me and said, "Hiccup, start getting ready. We're leaving as soon as Johann is finished with his meal."

I sighed and nodded. "See you in a little bit," I said quietly to Astrid. "I'll bring Toothless with me."

"Okay," she said. And was quiet after that.

I walked out of the great hall with Toothless in tow. We reached our house within a few minutes. I opened the door to let Toothless in and trudged upstairs. Made a small knapsack that I could keep on a boat. In it, I placed a bar of coarse soap I had made a few weeks ago from yak fat and lye. It did a great job of keeping my skin and hair from getting too oily and matted. I gathered my fur vest and a couple of extra shirts and wrapped them into the knapsack as well.

My plan was to leave Toothless with Astrid and visit the great hall for provisions along the way. Based on what my dad told me, it took about two days to sail between Berk and Berserker Island. Just long enough to drive someone insane from hunger. And two days was just enough to make someone need more than just a send-off meal. Luckily, we had wonderful "treats" such as hardtack that was hard enough to crack teeth. We also had several different types of berries, which were a favorite for me on expeditions. I was also planning on taking some salt-cured meat with me on the trip, but I couldn't find any. I quickly resigned myself to being a vegetarian for a few days.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I looked at nothing. Turned around to find Toothless sitting on his haunches, staring at me.

"Let's go, bud," I said quietly. I trudged down the stairs again and walked out, Toothless just behind me. We continued walking until we reached Astrid's house. Stormfly was curled up in her pen, sleeping. Toothless must have noticed because he didn't bound over to her like he normally did in hopes of getting a playmate. He simply stopped for a moment, looking at her, then padded close to me as I approached Astrid's door.

I knocked. And waited. After a few seconds, Astrid opened her door.

"Hey, Astrid," I said half-heartedly. "I brought Toothless."

Astrid didn't say a word as she strode through the door and wrapped me in a hug I wasn't ready for. "I'll take care of him," she whispered. She let go after a few seconds, then shuffled over to Toothless, stroking the top of his head. He sighed happily and leaned into Astrid's hand.

"Okay," I said with a sigh. "Thanks. See you in a week or so."

I turned and began walking toward the great hall. Predictably, Toothless grunted urgently and ran in my direction.

I had already been through this once before, when Mildew single-handedly got our dragons banished from the village. There are things in life that you just can't get "better at," and one of those things is to leave a dragon behind. Probably the worst part of it is seeing the expressions on their faces. They don't understand what's happening, and there's no way to explain it to them.

I turned back toward Toothless and touched him on the cheek. "Stay here, bud. Okay?" I gave him a quick hug around the neck to let him know I still cared for him. But there was nothing else I could say or do. I let go and began walking again toward the great hall. From behind, Toothless moaned softly. I looked down, noticing the grass below my feet was blurry from tears gathering in my eyes.

I really hated doing this.

I slowly walked into the great hall and approached the back. Grabbed a basket and filled it with hardtack, fruits, vegetables and berries for our trip. We could survive two days without meat or fish. After that, we had to hope the Berserkers would be "hospitible" like they had promised.

I walked out of the great hall, the basket slung over my back. Carried it down to the docks, where my dad was helping Johann into his boat. He untied the mooring rope and gave the boat a small push with his foot. I heard the water protest slightly as Johann collected the rope and threw it onto the deck.

"Thank you, Stoick! And thank _you_ , Master Hiccup!" he called. My dad waved slightly. And I did nothing. Not only because I was tired, but also because I still didn't want to be here.

"Looks like you're ready," my dad observed.

I placed the basket on the docks. "Sure," I said mindlessly.

"Put your belongings and the food inside, and we'll take off."

Without saying a word, I hefted the basket again and placed it on the boat deck. Threw my belongings after it. My dad untied the mooring rope and gathered it neatly near the helm. I climbed into the boat without a word. My dad followed suit and used an oar to push off from the docks.

The boat was fairly small for Viking standards. No interior section, but it was generally large enough for us to spread out. A large sheet of leather was folded and stored in a corner of the boat, intended for use as a shelter from the sun or rain.

My mind still not working, I grabbed an oar, waiting for my dad's signal to start rowing. I didn't look at him, only listening for his okay.

Within a few minutes, he said, "What are you doing, Hiccup?"

I looked up at him slightly. "Hm?" I asked.

"You don't need to row. Just relax and enjoy the trip."

 _Yeah, right_ , I thought. I put the oar down and just sat there, staring at nothing.

As we left the island, I felt the breeze freshen slightly. It was still a little cold, so I shivered and curled a little tighter. I felt the boat turn a little, my dad's powerful strokes through the water propelling us toward our destination. The wind caught the sail and billowed it toward the bow. After a few moments, my dad stopped rowing.

The boat rocked gently as the wind took us with it. I heard my dad adjust his position in the boat. Everything was silent after that, except for the wind blowing and the water lapping against the boat.


	4. Chapter 4

Time is a bizarre thing. It's always moving forward, but that's not what is so strange about it. You can have dawn turn into morning, morning into afternoon, afternoon into evening, and evening into night. It always moves that way. You'll never see night turn into afternoon, just like you'll never see the sun rise in the west.

But even thought time moves _forward_ , it never seems to move forward at the same speed. I've had several days where I spent most of my waking hours flying on Toothless' back or running the Academy. And on those days, if someone asked me, I'd never be able to completely recall that day. Several of them were a complete blur, even a few hours later as I was winding down for the evening. There were occasions where I spent a few minutes asking myself what I did throughout the day.

Time moves faster when you're engaged in something.

On the other hand, I felt like the time I spent on Dragon Island after that stupid little adventure with Mildew and the thunderstorms was never going to end. The sun seemed to be stuck in the sky, at least when I could see through the clouds during that period of time. Even though I knew the water was draining into the rocky beach that day when it pooled around Toothless' body, it felt like it took an inordinately long time.

Based on that and a few other experiences, I knew that time moved slower when you're dreading something. And the worse the feeling got, the slower time moved.

That was how I felt in the boat with my dad. Heading to Berserker Island. I saw the wind billowing the sail out, but I would have been a fool to guess we were actually going anywhere. It felt like the waves were simply passing underneath us on their way to a shoreline. And the sun was definitely stuck in the sky, somewhat past overhead. I distinctly remembered checking my shadow at least an hour ago, and my shadow was still the same length. But then I remembered. It wasn't an hour ago. Maybe a few minutes at most.

Time is a bizarre thing.

I sat in the boat, shuffling around occasionally to keep from getting stiff legs or a sore back. I didn't eat, not because I wasn't hungry, but because I knew to ration the food we had available until we reached Berserker Island.

My dad suddenly asked me something, breaking the monotony of the water gently lapping at the boat.

A little surprised, I somehow decided answering my dad was gonna require that I check the length of my shadow. It was fairly long, mostly to my left. We were headed south, so that meant the sun was to the west. Early evening.

"Hiccup?" my dad said.

Finally, I realized he was asking me something and expecting an answer. "Wh-what?" I asked stupidly.

My dad rolled his eyes, but repeated himself. "Did Johann say anything to you about the Berserkers?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. He did. I asked him to."

"What did he say?"

I glanced upward in thought. "Uh, he said something about how Dagur thinks there's a Night Fury on their island. He says it lives in a cave system underneath their village."

I thought my dad would be taken aback with what I told him. But he simply continued staring at me. It was my signal to continue explaining myself.

"I made sure Johann knew Toothless is a Night Fury," I continued.

"And?"

"He does. But, uh, I guess he thinks Dagur's found a different dragon underneath his village. He didn't seem very convinced about what he was told."

"Who, Johann?"

I almost brought out my sarcastic side and answered with Dagur's name. But I held my tongue. "Yeah. He knows Toothless likes to fly, so it doesn't make sense to find a Night Fury inside a cave."

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. I didn't really believe him when he said that nobody has ever returned after venturing underground to find that dragon."

My dad smirked slightly.

"What was Johann telling you about whoever was ten feet tall?" I asked, quickly switching our roles for a few seconds.

"Johann says there's a guard on Berserker Island who makes sure nobody arrives without permission."

"Sounds great," I mused.

Impulsively, I checked my shadow again. Time was still moving forward because my shadow was still to my left, but it was a lot longer now. I looked west and noticed the sun had almost set.

Time moves faster when you're engaged in something. Like conversation, for example.

I yawned. The sheer boredom of this trip was taking most of my energy away. Without a word, I wedged myself near the stern of our boat and listened to the water lap against the boat. I much preferred falling asleep to the sound of Toothless breathing because I knew it meant I'd be safe throughout the night. He protected me from evil things like gnomes and trolls. But he wasn't here with me, so the water would have to make do for now.

* * *

A gentle back-and-forth rocking motion stirred me awake. I noticed the sun rising in the east as I sat up and tried to work the stiffness out of my neck and back. As I looked around, I saw open ocean, just like yesterday. I noticed my dad was slowly rowing, which accounted for the back-and-forth motion.

"G'morning, son," he said through a stroke.

"Mm. Hi, Dad," I mumbled back. It took me a few moments to remember why I was on a boat. Once I did remember, I wished I hadn't.

Bracing myself for each surge in our movement, I stepped toward the middle of the boat and began rummaging in the food stores we brought along. Pulled out a hardtack biscuit and a handful of berries. Breakfast.

Every time I took a bite of the hardtack, I heard and felt it snap. I figured I'd break a tooth soon, but maybe that would buy me a little mercy from the Berserkers. Then again, probably not. Best not to risk such an injury.

"I think we'll be there by noon today," my dad said, probably out of misplaced optimism. "The wind has been favorable for us."

"That's nice," I observed. And went straight back to eating.

After I had finished eating, I looked at my dad and asked, "Want to rest?"

He didn't say a word, only pulling the oars mostly back into the boat. I could either be lazy and wait for us to reach Berserker Island, or I could help us get there quicker. The way I was starting to think about it, the sooner we reached the island, the sooner we could leave it.

I sat down on the plank and extended the oars into the water. And began rowing. Slowly. I wasn't in so much of a hurry to risk injury. No need to sweat either. And moreover, as long as I kept focused on rowing, the faster the time would pass.

My dad dug into the food store and began eating without a word.

I continued rowing throughout the morning, occasionally checking my shadow for the time. Riding on Toothless' back over the last year and a half didn't just leave me with a sense of fun or accomplishment. I was able to build some muscle, especially in my thighs, abdomen, hips, and lower back. Something I was never able to accomplish in the forge with Gobber. I never got uncomfortable rowing for several hours at a slow pace, and by the time the sun was directly overhead, I was only slightly out of breath. Although I had put on muscle in my core, my mid-to-upper back was a little sore. I never used that area for flying.

I paused for a few seconds and turned around to check where we were. For whatever reason, I thought I needed to prove my dad wrong, that we weren't going to reach Berserker Island by midday.

An island was in the distance. And I was the one who was wrong. The wind really was favorable. And we'd reach the island within about twenty minutes, if I had to guess.

Mentally, I began preparing myself. Every interaction I had with Dagur began with him whirling a knife at my head. I had to cater to his every whim, regardless of what he demanded. Even if it was ludicrously impossible.

 _Just stop thinking for a few days, say 'yes', and you'll be all right,_ I thought.

I continued rowing, not realizing the implications until it was too late. I had already stopped thinking, like I told myself and inadvertently showed everyone on Berserker Island what my dad was really like. I had relegated myself to the role of servant, an observation the Berserkers would undoubtedly take advantage of.

As we reached the island, a mooring rope looped itself around my chest. It tightened and yanked me backwards, causing me to fall off the seat I was using to row. The only reason I barely stopped the back of my head from hitting the wooden hull was the oars in my hands. I yelped in panic, and instinctively tightened my grip on the oars. Those quick reflexes were another aspect of me that had been sharpened by flying on Toothless's back. The length of the oars coupled with the midsection I had built thanks to my dragon arrested my fall. I relaxed, noticing I only had a couple of inches between my head and the boat. We hadn't even _arrived_ and I was already making good on my prediction.

"What are you doing, child!?" a voice shouted from the docks somewhere in the direction my head was pointing.

"The rope is for Stoick!" someone else with a hoarse voice shouted.

I wriggled my way out of the lasso and handed it to my dad. He stepped over me and cinched it around one of the stylistic dragon heads on the front of the boat.

"PULL!" two people shouted in unison. I heard the water protest and felt a strong push as the boat slowed to a halt against the docks. I let my vision clear before sitting upright to make sure nothing else came flying at me.

"Stoick, teach your… _thing_ …to not get in the way so much," a Berserker said as he helped my dad out of the boat. The Viking was probably Gobber's size with dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders. He had a beard to match his hair. But he didn't have a peg leg or interchangeable prosthetic hands.

I rolled my eyes in irritation as I stood up. I was below "servant" status. I was now a "thing," whatever that meant.

"Yes, I'll have a word with him later," my dad said.

I stood, noting with dismay that the distance between the boat and the dock was growing. It was already too far for me to jump, but both Berserkers who reeled us in had already started walking away from me. With my dad in tow.

I grabbed a hold of the mooring rope and slowly brought the boat back into contact with the dock. Stepped out and took off, following my dad, who was listening to one of the Vikings tell him about recent events on Berserker Island.

As I closed the distance between myself and the Vikings in front of me, I heard two phrases in the same sentence. The first phrase was "Night Fury." And the second was "blood eagle."

Upon hearing that second phrase, the alternating _pat-clunk_ of my footsteps stopped, as if I had inadvertently stepped in some kind of glue. Johann was right about the dragon, whether it was a Night Fury or not. And there wasn't any doubt Dagur was gonna be obsessed with killing it.

I almost hurled right there on the docks. A blood eagle wasn't something I was interested in seeing first-hand. Ever. In a thousand lifetimes.

A blood eagle was probably the most barbaric method of execution I could imagine. Luckily, my dad and the chief before him had outlawed any kind of ritualistic killing. Neither of them wanted any "traditional" sacrifices, because both thought it would have been better to have citizens actually able to defend Berk in the case of a dragon raid or Outcast attack, for example. Killing animals in this way was also outlawed because my dad wanted us to keep our sanity. Not turn into barbarians.

But because my dad wanted us to remember where we came from, and what we were _not_ going to do, everyone on Berk had to learn at least a little about these rituals.

I remembered from some obscure text hidden in Berk somewhere about the blood eagle. It explained everything about this barbarism, and even included diagrams. You defeat someone important in battle and lay him prone. Use a sword or knife to cut through his back, severing the ribs. And you peel the ribs outward to fashion a set of "wings." Ideally, this would be done while your enemy was alive. And somehow, you could misconstrue this barbarism as an offering to appease Odin. I had stopped reading the text after that, too disturbed to continue. There was more information about it, more steps to be followed, and I read it once because I was supposed to. But thankfully, I quickly forgot what those instructions said.

Truth be told, I figured my dad probably wanted to turn Toothless into a blood eagle that day in the arena. When Toothless was protecting me from Hookfang during my rite of passage. At that time, the dragons were still the bane of our existence, and a Night Fury was way too legendary to ignore. It would have been fitting for him to make an exception at that moment in time, just for a Night Fury. It would have been the ultimate statement to the gods, saying we were the masters of Berk, not the dragons.

I took a quavering deep breath, silently thankful Toothless was still alive. With his ribs intact. As I looked up the docks, I noticed my dad was still walking with the Berserker Vikings. And they were at least a hundred feet in front of me. I ran to catch up with them.


	5. Chapter 5

I was surprised. Normally, I'd be "pleasantly surprised," but I wasn't about to go that far yet. I was on Berserker Island, and I expected it to be a cesspool of an island. I expected drunk Vikings running amok and shouting at the top of their lungs. I expected to see their latest victim strung up somewhere near the docks and dripping blood. I expected to see a grimy village that nobody really wanted to take care of. They're Berserkers. There's no time to clean up the area when you're busy killing things, right?

The village on Berserker Island was actually somewhat clean. Okay, it was almost welcoming. Maybe even more so than Berk, if for no other reason than we had dragons to look after. The Berserkers didn't. So it stood to reason they could keep the village livable.

There were no drunk Vikings running amok and shouting at the top of their lungs. The people around us were generally civilized, making room for the two guards and my dad to walk through. Most of them looked at us for a second, then continued on their way. I brought up the rear and stayed close behind. If I left enough of a gap between us, I thought someone would block me off from where I needed to be. Which was probably near Dagur.

I only afforded myself cursory glances as we walked through the village. After noticing we had taken several turns and walked for a much longer time than I had expected, I realized the guards were taking us on a tour of the island. Just like we did for Dagur last year. When he announced to the world he was "bored" a zillion times.

I had no idea how much of the village I had missed. Maybe at least half? Glanced around for anything that might look like a forge. I was so used to working in the forge at Berk that I used it as a major landmark for myself. So, instinctively, I did the same thing here, but I didn't see anything that caught my interest.

One of the guards said something to my dad and stopped, pointing roughly upward. I was still trying to spot a forge when I collided into the guard's backside. He stumbled forward with a grunt, interrupting his explanation. And turned to face me.

"S-sorry…" I said quietly. I didn't make direct eye contact with him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glaring at me. He held his gaze for a beat. "What was I talking about before he stopped me?" The guard looked at me the entire time, but my dad knew the question was addressed to him.

"You were showing me where the dragons come from during attacks," my dad said quietly. I could tell he was at least slightly embarrassed by my presence.

"Can I continue, or is _he_ going to stab me next time?" the guard asked pointedly.

"It won't happen again," my dad said.

The guard leaned forward just as I realized I was trying to involuntarily shrink. He knew he was intimidating me, and he took full advantage of it.

"S-sorry," I whispered again. "I…I'll pay closer attention."

The guard sneered at me for a moment and then wheeled around. "Right," he said. "So, like I was saying before I was _rudely_ interrupted, the dragons come from that direction. Northwest."

The guards started walking again. My dad followed suit. I took a deep breath and begrudgingly put my right foot in front of my peg. Started walking with a little more distance between us.

"Anyway, we need to renew the peace treaty, but it's also good timing for us." Both of the guards stopped. So did my dad. And I was paying attention this time, so I stopped as well. I noticed the guard I had bumped into was glaring at me, making sure I stopped before colliding with him again.

"How is it good timing for you?" my dad asked.

"There's a Night Fury that lives on this island," the guard who had accosted me said. He said it matter-of-factly. And he sounded like he wasn't as frustrated as he was a moment ago.

My dad saw the two guards turn forward, looking where they were going. He turned back to me briefly with his eyebrows raised in disbelief. I shrugged, not knowing what to do or say. He turned back around, just as one of the guards returned his eyes to my dad.

"We don't know anyone else who has ever seen a Night Fury…" the guard said, pausing for dramatic effect. I knew exactly where he was going with this. "…Except you."

"And what are we supposed to do about it?" I blurted out without thinking.

Both of the guards stopped. My dad stopped as well. All three of them turned to face me. The two guards glared at me. My dad simply looked at me. He was telling me with his eyes not to say anything else. The proverbial bell had already been rung once, and there was no way to un-ring it.

"Were we talking to you?" one of the guards asked.

I finally noticed something about the guards. Both of them had close-cropped beards. Well-maintained. Unlike most of what I saw on Berk. One had dark brown hair, the other lighter brown. The guard who asked me that question was the one with the dark brown hair and beard. Not too far from the color of my hair. The same one who glared at me earlier for bumping into him.

"No, sir," I said in deference. But I held my eye contact this time.

The guard leaned in slightly, trying the same tactic as earlier. I didn't budge. He sneered at me again and turned back to my dad. We were still stopped somewhere in the middle of the village.

"The Night Fury," my dad prompted.

"Yes," the guard continued. "We need your expertise with it tonight."

I put two and two together. The Berserkers claimed they needed us for a "Night Fury" problem, presumably underground. One of the guards had mentioned a blood eagle.

They wanted to hunt this dragon and turn it into a blood eagle. I guessed they wanted to haul it into the middle of town, where everyone including Odin could see. And they probably wanted it alive. Because it wouldn't be a proper sacrifice if the dragon were dead before starting on its "wings."

As the guards turned toward the center of the Berserkers' village, my dad shot a look at me. _Don't say a word. Don't even hint at saying anything._ I nodded once back at him. Message received and understood.

We continued walking mostly in silence. I generally looked down, not really seeing anything the village had to offer. At some point during the tour, one of the guards pushed open a door to what looked like a large house. Before stepping inside, I finally took another cursory glance around the village and noticed it was different from Berk. There was no communal hall. And I still couldn't find anything that looked like a forge. I returned my vision to the area in front of myself and stepped over the threshold.

Inside, I saw a welcoming fire in hearth. And framed by the yellowish-orange light was none other than Dagur the Deranged. He was sitting at a long table, seemingly waiting.

"Hey, Hiccup!" he shouted. Dagur quickly stood, made a swift motion of stepping toward me and hurling something from his right arm. I shot straight toward the floor, not thinking twice about it. After a few seconds, he cackled. "You're too easy," he said with a haughty laugh. It took me a few seconds to realize he hadn't thrown anything at me.

"Dagur, thank you for your hospitality," my dad said cordially. He walked up to Dagur and moved to shake hands with him.

Dagur looked my dad up and down from where he was standing. Extended his right hand and squeezed. I saw the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging, trying to crush my dad's hand. Eventually, he let go of the pressure. My dad wasn't showing any sign of pain. "Yes, Stoick," he said, trying to affect an air of importance around him. "I see Johann is good for his word. And you have heard what we're doing tonight, correct?" My dad nodded silently, looking at him.

I slowly got off the floor and stood. Invisibly. This was how I spent the first decade and a half of my life. Pushed around and invisible. But it was peculiar that the Berserkers wanted me here, so that made me important, right? So why was I invisible to them all of a sudden?

I was thinking about all this when I heard Dagur chuckle. A little too obvious, but it caught my attention nevertheless. "You're right about that, Stoick," he said. "But I'm afraid you arrived too early, with wind blowing from the north. My guards will show you to your housing here. They'll come to get you when we're ready tonight. Is that fair?"

This was Dagur like I had never seen him. All of the limited interactions I had with him were acting like I could tolerate his sadistic nature, but here he was, acting _refined_.

"Yes, thank you again, Dagur," my dad said.

The two guards turned us around and paraded us out of the house or whatever it was. A short distance away was a wooden structure that looked somewhat similar to the houses we had on Berk. A steeply sloping roof, open windows, and an ornate-looking wooden structure where the roof pitches met. I couldn't tell exactly what it was before the guards pushed me in behind my dad.

"We'll come to get you when the chief is ready," the lighter-haired one said. My dad nodded. They closed the door behind them and left.

I looked around for a second and heard my dad heave a massive sigh. "I'm sorry, Hiccup," he said quietly.

I turned toward him. "For what?"

"For letting them do that to you."

I shrugged, looking slightly down. "You couldn't stop them?"

"We play by their rules," he reiterated. "We have to keep them happy."

 _Fine_ , I thought. There was a pause in our fragmented conversation. "Was the guard serious when he was talking about the blood eagle?"

My dad simply nodded. He knew I was going to ask that question at some point. I looked slightly away from him, thinking. Wondering why the Berserkers were so civilized. They were almost welcoming, just like we were to them. But they were very well aware that we weren't going to attack them if they did something questionable.

"Confused?" he asked me after a long silence. I looked at him and nodded. "Dagur brings all of his warriors with him when he visits us. He does it for show."

"What?" I asked, more thoroughly confused.

"Most of what he does is for show," my dad repeated.

"So…I don't have to worry about his, you know, his threats?" I asked. Still confused.

"You still have to worry," he said back. "It's when they go crazy."

"Crazy…how?"

"Berserk," he clarified. "Once they're in that state of mind, not even Odin himself can stop them."

For a moment, I imagined Dagur with an extreme focus, unmindful of anything around him. Striding past anyone and anything, heading straight for the Night Fury he was so concerned about.

"It's not like what you think," my dad said quietly, like he was reading my mind. "You won't see anything else like it." There was a hint of him being impressed by what he remembered. "When Dagur's berserk, he's so focused on what he wants that he forgets everything else around him."

"Um…okay?" I said. It sounded like what I was imagining.

"If he's trying to kill a dragon, he doesn't sneak up on it. He doesn't swallow. He doesn't control his breathing or voice. I've seen him bite through a wooden shield before. He will kill anyone who gets in his way."

I froze for a second. _That's what berserk means._ And I would have guessed my dad had forgotten a detail or two about it.

"That's why I didn't want you to join me for these visits. Every time, Dagur went berserk for some reason. Usually something about dragons."

I should have been thankful for the past about two visits my dad and Gobber had to make to Berserker Island. And I was. I just never realized why my dad took these trips in secret. Or why he never told me anything about it. Probably nothing but nightmares on this island when Dagur worked himself into a rage. Come to think of it, Johann never told me about any of this either. Maybe he was hiding it from me too.

My mind began racing. There had to be signs. There had to be some kind of warning from Dagur, maybe body language that tipped everyone off to one of his Berserk moods. "How does it start?" I finally asked.

"Simple. He drinks ale or mead until he's drunk."

"That's it?"

"Mostly. Every time I've seen him berserk, he was shouting about something he didn't like. Usually some dragon. Then the drinking started."

I wondered if I needed to know that information now. I would have preferred my dad to keep it a secret because hearing what he said made me edgy and tense. But had I not known, it would probably be the death of me. Because I'd probably try to dissuade Dagur from hunting after a while. And he'd see me as a distraction while berserk. Something in his way. Something to be killed because I was in his way.

I realized this hunt wasn't going to end until either the dragon or Dagur were dead. And it all was going to start tonight.

"Try to get some rest," my dad suggested as I stood there, lost in thought.

I nodded and shuffled toward a simple wooden bed that had been set up for one person. There was another bed similar to it on the other side of the house. There were no divisions, just one floor, a very plain layout.

I lay down and let my mind wander. Probably wasn't going to get any sleep, but I tried anyway. I closed my eyes, hoping I could stay out of Dagur's way tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

The door opened with a creak. "Follow me," a voice said simply. There was no check to make sure we were awake. No waiting for us to get ready. We were supposed to just jump out of the beds, stand at attention and march straight toward the Night Fury.

I grunted slightly and scrambled to a somewhat upright position. My middle back groaned in soreness, especially under my shoulder blades. The sky visible through the doorway was mostly dark, so I actually _did_ catch some sleep. I blinked a few times, trying to resolve the two guards in front of me into actual shapes.

The two guards I was seeing slowly merged in to one person. Only one of the guards from earlier today was in front of me. The dark-haired one. The other guard was nowhere to be seen. Maybe his job was to accompany us on the tour of the island and that was it.

The guard turned and walked out of the door without saying another word. My dad and I slowly followed. As we exited the house, I noticed dusk had arrived with a chill in the air. Winter was still on its way out. The sky above us showed no stars whatsoever, so we had clouds hanging over us. The chill around us seemed to be exacerbated by the humidity in the air. Combined with the presumed clouds overhead, I figured we were getting rain within the near future.

I looked to my left, where one of the guards pointed and talked about dragons earlier, as if I could see something in that direction. Nothing of interest, except for more of Berserker Island. More houses. No forge. No dragons.

We hiked up a gentle slope and reentered the same large house Dagur was in earlier. And just like earlier, he was on the other side of the fire. Pacing. Three steps one way, turn around, three steps the other.

"They're here, sir," the guard said to Dagur.

Dagur stopped pacing and turned to him. Nodded. And turned to us. He had his usual three narrow dark scars running across his left eye in a diagonal line. He was still generally lanky, just like the last time I saw him, but it was easy to see he was also built. He glanced at us and silently motioned for us to join him at a table. Four chairs were arranged around the table. On the table was some kind of meat, cut into strips. Maybe chicken, perhaps? My dad nodded and gently put a hand behind my back, guiding me toward the table. My dad took a seat across from Dagur, while the guard and I were at his sides.

"Please eat," he said. Still refined. "We'll need the energy for tonight."

I figured my dad's message to me about keeping quiet was still in effect, so I simply picked up the meat and looked at it for a brief second. It wasn't greasy, like some cuts of yak meat are. The interior was white, like chicken. I guessed it couldn't be too bad and took a bite.

"Taste good?" Dagur asked.

I nodded. "Yes, sir," I said honestly. Definitely not chicken or yak. It was slightly tougher than what I was used to, but it went down without complaint.

"Have you ever eaten Nadder meat before?" Dagur asked.

I froze. With enough presence of mind, I averted my eyes downward and forced myself to continue chewing. This could have easily been Stormfly, had she and Astrid been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I swallowed.

"No," I said. "It's good, though." I forced myself to eat anyway so I wouldn't draw Dagur's suspicion. Above anything else, my dad and I knew we couldn't let the truth out about the dragons on Berk. Especially the truth about Toothless.

"I'm glad you like it," he said with a little smile. He moved his gaze toward his cohort and said, "I'd like to know what Night Fury meat tastes like. Maybe on our next visit to Berk we can hunt that Night Fury there and celebrate with a feast."

Dagur was still civilized as he spoke with the guard. He was casually taking drinks from his mug in front of him. He paused in the middle of his conversation with the guard and tilted the mug toward him slightly. The guard got up, took the mug to a wooden barrel and dipped it into the contents. He returned, the area around us now smelling strongly of alcohol.

I looked worryingly at my dad. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, holding my gaze. _Do not get in Dagur's way,_ his look told me.

I continued eating the Nadder meat until I was moderately full. No sense in stuffing myself when I needed to be alert. If I ate too much, I'd be slow to respond to what might be a delicate situation. Maybe the dragon, if we found it tonight, would get spooked and panic. Maybe it would attack us in self-defense. I had to be ready for these situations. With a wild dragon in close quarters, a fraction of a second was the difference between life and death.

Dagur, on the other hand, was paying absolutely no attention to what he would need to do at some point later tonight. He was gleefully stuffing his face with the dragon meat like it was his last meal. Between bites, he turned to his cohort and excitedly said something about a Night Fury or a blood eagle. I was still bitter about being here, so I did everything I could to mentally block him out of my mind.

I sat there, trying to shut out the noise when the door opened some twenty feet away from me. The lighter-haired guard walked in and whispered something to Dagur. After trying to keep myself closed off, it was awfully distracting to see someone whisper something to Dagur. My curiosity took over, and I slowly looked upward toward them.

Dagur turned to me and began cackling. A sadistic grin spread over his face. He looked up and continued laughing maniacally. _This is how the Berserker in him starts,_ I thought. Dagur slowly stopped laughing, which made me feel completely out-of-place. He was so lost in his own mind that he was completely ignoring everyone. Dagur was making a statement to the world, and the world was supposed to know how to translate his laughter.

"Gunnar says he's just seen the Night Fury," he said glaring directly into my eyes. Dropped his voice to a menacing whisper. "Let's go dragon hunting, Hiccup." He quickly downed the rest of whatever he was drinking and slammed the mug onto the table. And stood up, wiping his drink off his lips. Dagur's mouth opened slightly into a vicious smile as he stared through the door.

I looked briefly at the lighter-haired guard, who was apparently named Gunnar. His gaze was still locked onto Dagur, so I got no information from him about the Night Fury whatsoever.

Gunnar turned, motioned with his right hand, and led us out of the house. Stacked against the wall were four wooden shields and four swords. He passed them out to us and put a finger to his lips. This was to be a sneak attack on the dragon.

I looped my right arm through the handles in the shield and grabbed a sword with my left hand. We started walking. West, if I was correct in my sense of direction.

The last thing Gunnar did as we set off toward the dragon was grab a lit torch from the outside of the house.

Dagur, Gunnar and my dad all were at least decent about being quiet as they walked. But I had a peg. Every other step onto a hard surface was a sharp _clink_ , making me wince slightly. There was no way I could be quiet during this hunt. It didn't seem to matter anyway. The only way I could ever sneak up on Toothless was if he was asleep. And if Gunnar had just seen a Night Fury, I doubted it would be asleep. The dragon would have found a hiding place completely out of sight to rest. Something wasn't adding up, but I couldn't voice any concerns because I had to be a "good sport" about all of this.

Dagur and Gunnar switched positions at the front of our little group. Dagur took the front just as we approached a cave on the edge of the village. Briefly, I turned back around to check how far people might have lived from the dragon. The nearest house I could see was about fifty feet away. So my answer was very close.

Dagur suddenly turned around and glared at each of us. He was frontlit by the torch light, so we could see his expression. He put a finger to his lips, just like Gunnar had done previously. He slowly turned around and crept into the cave, followed by Gunnar, my dad, and me bringing up the rear.

It didn't take us long to reach the stifling darkness within the cave. The torch in Gunnar's hand was doing a halfway good job at lighting up the immediate area, but after about ten feet, the darkness hid everything. We took a few more steps forward when Dagur whispered, " _Stop._ "

I froze, not daring to breathe. Something must have caught Dagur's attention. Over the silence of the cave, I heard a rhythmic sound, almost like ocean waves marching toward the shore. But we had entered the cave away from the ocean. I listened more closely and heard a quiet rumbling sound echoing through the cave.

I blanched when I realized I was probably listening to a dragon breathe. This had to be the Night Fury that Dagur and Johann were talking about. And of all things, it actually sounded a lot like Toothless.

Without feeling it, I slowly crashed into the wall on my right because I was about to pass out from holding my breath. The shield in my right hand clanked against the wall, the sound seemingly splitting the air in two. The blow was just enough for me to grunt and scramble to stay upright, and the sound made all three of the Vikings in front of me jump. I used the knuckles on my left hand to push off the wall, but when I pulled my hand away, I felt a thick fluid connecting me to the wall. After a few seconds, my right shoulder felt the same way.

" _Hiccup, what are you doing!?_ " Dagur whispered.

As I caught my breath, I heard a low constant rumble coming from the same direction as earlier, but this time, it sounded like a warning. I was still dizzy from that near fainting spell when panic gripped my mind. I couldn't take more than extremely shallow breaths, so I began panting with my mouth open. It was audible, both to me and the other Vikings. And not to mention the dragon. My breathing wouldn't calm down, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself I was safe. And that scared me more than the dragon did. I felt sweat building on my forehead, and not long after that I felt rapid vibrations thrumming up through my right hand. I was shaking so badly that my sword was rattling against my shield.

"W _ould you stop that!?_ " Dagur whispered. I was powerless to respond to him. Couldn't even look at him. He finally took the initiative and grabbed my left hand, pulling it away from the shield and exposing my chest to any attack. His eyes showed considerable frustration as he adjusted my arms to keep from making any more noise.

As Dagur finished positioning me, my dad caught a glimpse of my right shoulder. He pointed with his sword and asked, "What is that?"

I looked at my right shoulder and noticed a thick, stringy fluid was connecting me to the wall. I shuffled to my left, and the liquid strings broke with no effort.

"It's from the dragon," Gunnar said. And left it at that.

Dagur took the torch from Gunnar and switched his sword to his shield hand. He moved his shield further up his left forearm to free up his hand. Held the torch up slightly, peering to his right around a corner.

A smile plastered itself across his face in the torchlight. "Hello, dragon," he said menacingly.

I saw his eyes focus on something just as a rumble crescendoed into a loud, echoing roar. I was the only one who shrunk back in fear. The other three Vikings weren't fazed at all.

In my fear, I somehow noticed the roar that was echoing through the cave didn't sound at all like Toothless. There was no higher register in the sound. This dragon's roar was only mid-to-low pitch. _It's not a Night Fury,_ I thought. I opened my mouth to say something when a bright flash struck Dagur's shield and dissipated.

Dagur sadistically laughed it off and immediately charged around the corner, Gunnar following close behind. Within a second, the jaunting motion of the light on the walls had stopped. Dagur must have dropped the torch, because I heard him grunt at the same time as a hollow _whoosh_ met my ears. He was swinging his sword at the dragon in front of him. Soon after that came a heavy digging sound that lasted about two seconds.

"WHERE ARE YOU, DRAGON!?" Dagur shouted after a few seconds. I heard him breathing heavily, totally engrossed in the fight that was about to happen. He stormed back around the corner, glaring daggers at me and shouted, "WHERE'S THE DRAGON, HICCUP!? WHERE IS IT!?"

I froze again, just as the initial panic wave that gripped me was about to subside. "I…I…I…don't know," I stammered, wasting Dagur's precious time. I subconsciously closed myself off to his attack, causing my sword to rattle against my shield again.

"Don't play games with me, Hiccup! You know exactly where the dragon is!"

Gunnar stepped back out from behind the rocky wall, distracting me for a couple seconds. He wasn't paying attention to where he was stepping and slipped, his left leg disappearing from view up to the knee. He shouted in panic as he tried to save his fall, but ended up pitching forward. My dad ran over to help him.

"Hiccup, we don't have a lot of time!" Dagur shouted. "Tell me where the Night Fury is, or I'll…"

"Dagur, stop!" my dad shouted. He grabbed Dagur from behind by the chest and heaved him backward. "Do _not_ threaten my son!"

As Gunnar was slowly getting up from where he had fallen, I noticed the same stringy liquid clinging to his entire front, including his face. He ineffectually used his hands to clean his face, not realizing they were coated in the same material. After a few attempts at cleaning himself off, he groaned in disgust.

Dagur noticed too, turning his attention toward his cohort. "You see this, Hiccup!? _You see this!?_ " His eyes were growing wider as he glared at me.

I paused for a second longer than normal, letting my mind clear itself. The panic was gone. At least for the time being.

"Yeah," I said. "It's from the dragon." I walked over to the other three Vikings and was about to say the dragon wasn't a Night Fury when a loud roar echoed through the cave. This time, it was on our left instead of the right. And on our left was a rock wall. There was no place for a dragon to hide.

My dad jumped in surprise and immediately turned toward the wall, his eyes darting all over its surface, trying to catch a glimpse of the dragon. If it was somehow as intelligent as Toothless, I figured it would have roared at us, then approached from a slightly different angle to take advantage of our distraction.

The ground under my dad's feet gave way without warning. He tried to jump backward, but couldn't react fast enough and ended up sprawling on his back. The back of his head crashed into the ground, causing him to grunt in pain, but he was coherent enough to scramble away from the collapsed floor on his back. Once he was on solid ground again, he sat up and squeezed his eyes shut, holding tightly onto the sides of his head. His helmet slowly fell off of his head and clattered on the ground. My dad made absolutely no effort to pick it up.

Something inside me clicked all of a sudden. My mind realized I was no longer the rear of the group, but my job was now to guard someone. A deep calming presence settled over my shoulders, making me hyper-aware of my surroundings. The areas that were pitch-black just a few moments ago were now dark shades of yellow-gray, thanks to the torch light. But most importantly, I was ready to fight to defend my dad. I stepped over his legs and had my sword and shield at the ready.

The ground that had collapsed a few moments ago exploded in a cascade of dirt, rock and the same fluid that was coating the walls. The dragon scrambled out from the ground and roared, shooting a fireball directly at my head. Instinctively, I moved my shield upward to deflect the blow, which thrummed through my arm and made me take a step backward. My peg bit into the rock, arresting my movement.

As the vibrations cleared themselves, I lowered my shield, glaring at the dragon and standing between it and my dad. It had no wings, and its body was generally circular, almost like a turtle if its shell were internal. It had four legs, each foot tipped with sharp black claws. Its legs were somewhat splayed from its sides, unlike Toothless, who normally kept his legs directly underneath himself. The dragon had vicious-looking lower teeth extending slightly outward and overlapping its upper jaw. Its beady eyes were yellow with cat-like pupils. And it had several yellow stripes, beginning from its eyes and running down the length of its sides.

My inescapable conclusion: _This was definitely not a Night Fury._

Whatever the dragon was, it glowered at me. I wasn't going to try to train it, not when Dagur the Deranged was nearby. My only goal was to keep the dragon from attacking my dad. And to do that, I was gonna stand my ground. I took a step forward, causing it to intensify its rumbling. Suddenly, Dagur leapt for the dragon with a loud battle cry, almost rivaling the dragon's roar. He had his sword cocked behind his shoulder and stepped forward, bringing his weapon down with another hollow _whoosh_. The sword clanked into the ground as the dragon moved out of Dagur's line of attack.

The dragon slipped past Dagur and began heading for a small crevice in the rock wall, maybe just wide enough for my shoulders. But definitely not wide enough to accommodate the dragon, no matter how it approached the gap.

"Pin it there!" Dagur shouted. "It's got nowhere to…"

He stopped as the dragon quickly squeezed itself into the gap, barely disturbing any of the rocks on either side.

"How in Odin's name did it do _that_?" Dagur asked slowly.

Gunnar was panting behind me, his front side still covered in the fluid from the dragon.

"How does a Night Fury do that!?" Dagur shouted, directing his question at me.

"It's not a Night Fury," I finally said.

"I told you not to play games with me!" he shouted back.

"I'm not," I said. I was still focused. "That's not what a Night Fury looks like."

"How do you know that!?"

"It doesn't have any wings," I pointed out simply. I could have described how it had yellow stripes, or its body profile was too circular, or how its teeth weren't retractable. But I chose the most apparent difference. "A Night Fury will fly off if you attack it."

Dagur took four strides toward me, his sword at the ready. "Your dad's not here to defend you now, Hiccup." He brought the business end of the sword about a foot from my face. "How does the dragon fit into that space?" he asked slowly through clenched teeth, like my life depended on this answer.

Another heavy burrowing sound caught our attention. Dagur's head snapped toward the source, causing his neck to pop audibly. He grunted in pain and dropped his sword, grasping the back of his neck with a grimace. "No, not now," he groaned. He tried to move his neck and head, wincing with certain movements. It took me a few seconds to realize he had pulled a muscle in his neck.

"Let's get out of here," I suggested. "You can't turn your head, and my dad isn't in good shape either."

Dagur glared at me from the corner of his eye and said, "Don't even think about it. We're finishing this tonight, or Berk becomes ours tomorrow."

I gulped. Injured or not, Dagur was still willing to go to war with Berk, and he was forcing me to cater to him.

In the background, my dad groaned, the pain in his head becoming more intense.

That heavy burrowing sound came back, this time directly behind me. I had no time to get around the dirt and rocks that were seemingly boiling. Within a second, the dragon reappeared between me and my dad, facing me.

"Out of the way!" Dagur shouted. He shoved me aside with his shield and took two steps toward the dragon. The dragon, instead of running for cover again, bullrushed Dagur before he could get his sword ready. Dagur toppled onto his back, screaming in pain and fear as the dragon trampled him. There was nothing I could do. If I somehow got the dragon's attention, it had every reason in the world to attack Dagur, who was still lying prone and in shock.

The dragon quickly turned toward Gunnar and glared at him for a split-second, rumbling. And launched a fireball at his feet.

Gunnar reacted too slowly, and his left boot was quickly enveloped in bright yellow flames.


	7. Chapter 7

The dragon launched itself forward, gouging deep furrows into the earth beneath its claws. Its back left leg was just close enough to Dagur's upper right arm for the dragon's claws to rake into Dagur's skin. He yelled in pain just as the shock from being trampled wore off. Dark crimson droplets of blood peppered the area around my feet, some of them landing on my peg.

Another shout caught my attention. It was short and panicking, coming from Gunnar's direction. He tried to smother the fire on his left foot using one of his hands. But as he brushed his boot, his left hand caught fire. And it was climbing rapidly up his left leg. As soon as it reached his knees, it spread to both of his legs. Gunnar screamed in agonizing pain as a gentle breeze blew past me toward him. We were deep enough in the cave system that any wind from outside wasn't going to reach us. This was the draft from the building fire. And Gunnar was its source.

"TOO HOT! TOO HOT!" he shouted. In panic, he slapped wildly at the building flames, only succeeding in feeding the yellow fire with more air. And more fuel. The slime from the dragon must have been stupidly flammable. Several areas around Gunnar had also caught fire, dotting his surroundings with miniature torches.

As Gunnar's skin on his arms and legs blackened, the flames reached his face, where he tried to scream again, but only a voiceless rush came out of his mouth. The draft that was a gentle breeze a second ago whipped into a much more considerable wind, enough to cause my pants to billow just slightly toward him. I slowly backed away from Gunnar to prevent myself from catching fire, but I couldn't take my eyes away from him. I kept backing away in fear, knowing my left hand and right shoulder were coated in the same stuff that was burning Gunnar alive. The heat was so intense I thought I was going to catch fire as well.

It didn't take long for the smell of burning flesh to fill the cave around us. It was quickly followed by a coppery smell as blood vessels beneath Gunnar's skin occasionally burst from the heat. I knelt, about to become sick to my stomach. I put my head between my arms and leaned on my sword to hopefully keep balance on my knees, the sight of Gunnar being immolated almost too much to handle.

After maybe a minute of pure agony, Gunnar's face quickly turned crisp black, and he slowly pitched forward. His face smashed into the ground, throwing small flames in all directions for a few feet. He soon toppled to his right, dead as soon as he hit the ground. His body stayed absolutely rigid. But the fire was still burning away, causing Gunnar's skin to crackle slightly. The wind around us was still strong, feeding the fire. The heat was still deathly intense. And the coppery smell was so thick I could literally taste it.

I slowly turned toward my dad, who had gotten to his hands and knees in pain and was starting to crawl out of the cave. Each time he moved, that same fuel stuck to his hands and knees.

I knew we had to get out of here soon. A roaring fire in a nearly-closed space like this was bound to suck all of the breathable air out of the surrounding area. And it wouldn't take long to pass out from lack of air.

I slowly stood, fighting back the wave of nausea in my stomach and throat, and turned toward Dagur. I was gonna grab him and get him out of there, regardless of whether he'd go to war with us in the future or not. As I got within five feet of him, I noticed his eyes were somewhat glassy and his face was turning red. Blood was slowly leaking out of right arm where the dragon had launched off of him. He wasn't breathing. And two seconds later, his teeth began chattering.

There was no way he could have been cold. Not in this setting.

"Dagur, we need to get out of here!" I shouted.

He didn't respond to me, except by quivering. It started in his head, which I thought was even more peculiar. He had a strained neck, but he was tense beyond belief, and yet he wasn't showing any pain at all. His quivering spread to his entire body as he started breathing again. Loud, hissing breaths, through clenched teeth. His eyes began bulging slightly as he stared straight ahead, like he was glaring past Gunnar's burning corpse and through the wall in front of him.

"Dagur, come on!" I shouted.

He sucked in a deep breath and leaned back into a howl. Like a wolf. Only, when a wolf howls, it's not blood-chilling. My abdominal muscles tensed slightly as I subconsciously went through the motions of emulating Dagur's howl. He was reaching some sounds that I could actually feel, rather than hear. I froze in abject fear, not knowing what to do, five feet away as Dagur howled at the top of his lungs. It was loud enough to start a rockslide, I was sure of that.

"D-Dagur?" I said haltingly after he had finished howling to Odin.

He never looked at me. He turned to his left and yelled at the top of his lungs again. No words, only a primal battle cry. Dagur took off, sprinting straight toward the crevice where the dragon had disappeared just a few moments ago. He had his sword in his right hand, but left his shield near my peg.

"Dagur, no!" I shouted. I jumped over his shield in an effort to stop him. I couldn't think of anything else to persuade him with, but he had already done what I thought only dragons could do. He had turned manic.

No.

 _He was berserk._

I froze maybe with my left hand maybe a foot behind his shoulder. There was absolutely no stopping him. As he squeezed through the crevice, I heard a loud roar come from behind the rocks. It was the dragon. It shot a fireball straight at Dagur. I heard it collide with something soft, silencing Dagur. I heard him pull in a gasping breath and yell at the top of his lungs at the dragon. His primal scream ended as I heard his sword lodge to the hilt in something. Either rocks or dragon, but I couldn't tell which.

Dagur was gasping and exhaling with no control over his voice. But the dragon didn't match him at all. I never heard it make a sound after that last roar. It didn't take long for a wet, sickening _crack_ to echo its way through the cave. It definitely wasn't Gunnar's body because it came from where Dagur was. Another _crack_. Followed by another. About one every five seconds or so. I stood rooted to my spot as each sound filled the air above Gunnar's burning corpse.

There were at least twenty of those cracking sounds. Because of the echoing in the chamber, it took me a while to realize those sounds were from bones breaking. I closed my eyes in horror and took a step backward. Dagur had killed the dragon without a second thought but didn't stop there. He was turning it from a dragon into a blood eagle.

Open the ribcage from the back. Peel the ribs away from the spine. And whatever else before offering the blood eagle as a sacrifice to Odin.

I collapsed on my knees and finally hurled, that horrible sour taste comparable in intensity to the smell of burning flesh and blood from earlier. And Gunnar's corpse was still burning.

I groaned as I stood up and hobbled toward my dad, who was still slowly crawling his way out of the cave. I used the wall as support, unmindful of the dragon's fuel attaching itself to my skin and clothing.

Within half a minute, I had reached my dad, who was entirely focused on crawling his way out of the cave. I was weak at the knees from what had transpired in the cave and probably lack of air, but there was no other option. I whispered a short prayer to Thor for strength and crouched, pushing myself underneath my dad's chest. Pulled in a quick breath and stood, using my legs to do most of the work. I held onto my dad's arms and looped them over my shoulders. And started walking slowly toward the Berserker village.

My dad was struggling to even keep his eyes focused. I kept looking at his face, hoping for a moment of clarity from him, but he simply kept staring through the ground. Walking with support was more than enough for him at the moment.

We slowly exited the cave, night still saturating the air around us. It felt like we were in there for hours, but time is a bizarre thing. In reality, we had maybe spent thirty minutes in there at most.

Outside of the cave, a light drizzle was falling. Where firelight illuminated the ground, I saw a bright sheen of water on the grass and dirt. Visibility toward the village thankfully wasn't limited, but it definitely made the air around us much colder.

A loud, echoing howl came from deep within the cave. Same chilling tone as earlier. Dagur must have finished what he was doing to the dragon. I couldn't believe how intense his yells were. There were times when my dad was trying to get himself excited for a battle and yelled at a dragon, but it was never this crazy. I now understood what he was saying about keeping out of Dagur's way. Not only would I never be able to stop him, but I'd be lucky to _survive_ such an encounter.

As luck would have it, the brown-haired guard who was showing us around earlier today was strolling around the outskirts of the village. Probably on patrol, just like we did at Berk.

"HEY!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. Couldn't think of anything else to say, and I couldn't whistle anyhow. It caught his attention, and he wasted no time in running toward us.

"Where's Dagur?" he asked. He completely ignored me and my dad. Both of us were coated in the dragon's slime, and my dad was leaning heavily on my shoulder, probably within seconds of falling over.

I didn't answer his question. "Please, sir, can you help us?" I asked. "This is urgent."

The guard took one look at my dad, turned around and backed his way underneath his left arm without saying a word. We supported him on either side as we walked him back into the village. My dad groaned in pain again, a fresh headache wracking him. I felt my eyes watering, feeling his pain and not being able to do a thing about it. It was that same feeling I had when Toothless was torn from me in the arena during my rite of passage. It was what I should have been feeling watching Gunnar burn to a crisp, but everything happened so fast I couldn't react. And I should have felt the same way about the dragon. But none of that mattered anymore. My dad was the only thought on my mind. _Get him help somehow._

We trudged up the hill toward the village center, where the guard led us through a doorway. I didn't care what was inside the house, just as long as we could help my dad.

"Right there," the guard said, motioning with his gaze toward a wooden bed. It was empty, so I guessed we had reached the house we were staying in earlier.

We turned around and sat my dad on the bed. Moved his legs into a straightened position and gently laid him down. The guard removed his helmet and propped my dad's head up using a folded animal skin.

"Let him rest here for the night," the guard said.

I backed away and sat down in a chair with an exasperated sigh. And let my shoulders droop. I hung my head, staring at the ground. A tear slowly made its way to the bridge of my nose before dropping to the floor below.

"Where's Dagur?" he asked again.

I waited for a brief moment. Took a deep breath, but never looked at him. "Hunting the Night Fury," I finally mumbled. I had just enough presence of mind to call the dragon what the Berserkers thought it was. There was no point in arguing about what species the dragon really was.

"What about Gunnar?" he asked as he sat down at the foot of the bed.

I paused. And closed my eyes. Involuntarily, I was giving him the exact answer he didn't want to hear. "The dragon killed him," I finally said quietly toward the floor.

"How?" he asked.

I mulled my answer over in my head before settling on it. There was no need for details. So I kept it simple. "Burned him," I said. My tone of voice suggested I didn't want to go any further.

There was a long silence, so the guard must have gotten my message. I didn't hear anything from outside the house. The guard eventually said something to break the vacuum that was between us. "Dagur really wanted to kill that dragon. He thought it would make him invincible if he could kill a Night Fury. Especially after he saw the one on Berk."

I was so drained that I had almost forgotten where I was. I slowly moved my gaze toward the guard and was a split-second from asking him, _Oh, you mean Toothless?_ My mouth was open to say something, and I had gotten the first syllable out. And I realized almost too late that I was about to give away my most precious secret to someone who was probably an enemy. "Oh…w-well…" I trailed off, not knowing how to salvage my broken thoughts.

"Hm?" he asked.

"…Never mind. It wasn't important," I lied, looking slightly away from him.

"Dagur brought Gunnar with you because he thought he needed to improve at dragon hunting."

"Who, Dagur?" I asked in confusion.

"No, Gunnar. He knew this would be dangerous, and he knew his skills at dragon fighting weren't sharp enough for this."

"Why didn't he just say 'no'?" I asked. I came dangerously close to reciting one of my dad's favorite phrases: _We're Vikings; it's an occupational hazard_. But I quickly decided against it. Now was probably not the time for levity.

"He still wanted to be like Dagur. He thought Dagur was the most amazing person to ever set foot on this island. Saying 'no' would have caused Dagur to lose respect for him. And to Gunnar, that respect was important."

This was eerily similar to Gustav's view of Snotlout. "So he shouldn't have gone, but he did it anyway," I translated. I briefly wondered if something like this would have happened if we didn't have dragons freely roaming around Berk.

The guard sitting across from me nodded somberly.

"What about us?" I asked, motioning between me and my dad.

"What do you think?" he asked sarcastically. Before I could say anything, he continued. "To show you and your father how strong and invincible he was. And by extension, the entire Berserker Tribe."

"He did that, all right," I said under my breath, breaking eye contact with him again.

"He went berserk, didn't he?" the guard asked me, picking up on my little comment.

I nodded, not looking at him.

"And I bet he turned that dragon into a blood eagle," he continued.

I shrugged. "I guess. I only wanted to get out of the cave at that point. I didn't watch."

"You'll see it tomorrow. It takes Dagur about an hour to come out of one of his trances, so he's got plenty of time to bring that dragon into the middle of the village."

"Good luck getting it out," I mused sarcastically.

"In his current state? He'll find a way. It's an offering to Odin, so it needs to be placed where he can see it." He paused. Dropped his voice for effect. "And you'll need to act like you're impressed with it. That's my advice to you."

I recoiled in disgust. "I'd rather avoid it, thank you."

"Hiccup, trust me. You don't want to get on the wrong side of the Berserkers." He said that with a tone of voice that suggested he wasn't a "Berserker."

I picked up on his tone and asked, "You mean your entire tribe?"

"No, not everyone here does that. There are maybe twenty people here who can actually go berserk. And before you ask, I'm not one of them." He was making every effort to distance himself from the rest of his tribe.

I looked at the guard with a sideways glance. _Yeah, right_ , I thought. They were called "Berserkers" for a reason.

"Because of them, the name sticks to us," he continued.

"Yeah, sounds great," I said dismissively. "If you can somehow convince Dagur to sign the peace treaty, we'd really like to get back to Berk tomorrow."

The guard chuckled. "You have no idea how easy that's gonna be."

" _What?_ Are you saying I should just walk right up to him and hand him the treaty and say, 'Here, sign this'?"

"You don't know what happens afterward, do you?" he asked.

I just looked at him with a confused expression on my face.

"Nobody can keep that berserk state for very long. Once he's done with it, Dagur's practically not going to move at all for the next two or three days. You'll be able to get him to agree to almost anything."

"Liar," I said quietly.

"I'm not lying, Hiccup. Tomorrow, we'll get the treaty signed in the morning. You'll be heading back home before noon."

I sighed. "Okay, fine," I conceded. "Just…just lemme get some rest."

"I'll be back here tomorrow morning for the treaty," he said. Stood up. And walked out of the house, closing the door quietly behind him.

I sat there for a moment, letting the night sounds filter in through the walls. I really wished Toothless were here right now. Or Astrid. Somebody who could make me feel secure. Somebody who could make me forget about what happened for just a little while.

I groaned slightly as I stood. Began surveying the house. In one corner was a deep basin filled with fresh water. Immediately, I stopped surveying and walked over to my knapsack and pulled out the bar of coarse soap. Brought it back to the basin and washed my hair and face. The soap stung a little as it attacked my skin, but it did what it was supposed to. The slime that was beginning to crust over my right knuckles was no match for it.

I washed the soap out of my hair and skin and removed my shirt. The right shoulder was crusted over with that same material. I wondered how the dragon produced so much of it. I also wondered why the fire it created was a vivid yellow. Something like looking at a lemon and creating fire with the exact same color. It just seemed unnatural that a fuel like that could be any color other than light orange or the occasional blue flicker.

As I let the water drip back into the basin, I stared at my reflection in the water. The dripping water from my face turned my reflection into wavy patterns, but when the basin was still, I saw my face staring back at me. My eyes were the first thing I noticed. They were sullen, maybe sunk into my head just a fraction. Underneath were slight dark spots I hadn't noticed before. My skin was generally whitish, just like it was supposed to be.

But my eyes told me everything that went wrong today. There must have been something I could have done to prevent the dragon from immolating Gunnar. I should have gotten Dagur out of there sooner so he couldn't have gone berserk. _I should have fought that dragon_. Even if it would have been a brief scuffle, I should have distracted the dragon so Gunnar could have gotten to safety. But I didn't. I intentionally stayed away from engaging the dragon. I wondered what kind of impression that was gonna make to Dagur.

 _Here's Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the Viking who courageously saved Dagur the Deranged from a Night Fury attack on Berk. And the exact same Hiccup was a terrified wreck during a dragon hunt a year later._

There'd be no way Dagur could ignore the way I handled tonight's hunt. Or that guard…whatever his name was.

I continued staring at my reflection, wondering how long this Hiccup was going to be around. This Hiccup, who constructed an elaborate lie to help his tribe keep their pet dragons alive. And this same Hiccup, who inadvertently exposed said lie and condemned his tribe and their dragons to near-certain death at the hands of the Berserkers.

I finally broke the staring contest with myself and glanced at the shirt I was holding in my right hand. The one with the slimed shoulder. Better to get rid of it. Or wash it when we returned to Berk. There would be no time to clean and dry it here. And if I did anyway, I'd have to stay here longer. If the guard was right about the blood eagle, that meant I'd have to spend more time acting like it was the most amazing sight ever.

I walked over to my knapsack and pulled out another shirt. Same dull green color as the previous one. I pulled it on and walked over to the other bed in the house. I lay down, but I couldn't sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

I stirred as the door opened, bringing a brief chill with the guard from last night. Today was going to be a long day. I had to sign the treaty and politick my way off of Berserker Island. I had to somehow get my dad onto the boat we arrived in and sail back to Berk. And all of this had to be done on no sleep. I had tossed and turned in worry the entire night, but I never rested.

As I sat up with a tired yawn, the guard walked in holding something in his left hand. "G'morning, Hiccup." He stopped about ten feet away and let me stand up.

I glanced over at my dad, who was still sleeping on his back, snoring quietly. Turned my attention back to the guard.

"I forgot the formalities yesterday," he said. He stepped forward, offering his right hand. "I'm Henrik. Gunnar's cousin."

I took his hand and shook it. "Hiccup," I said without thinking.

He let go. "Yes, I already know who you are."

I winced slightly as I realized what I told him. Definitely going to be a long day.

He held up what looked to be a light brown branch of some sort that split wildly in several different directions. It was maybe the size of his open hand. "Keep this with you."

He gave the object to me. It felt like a branch. Parts of it were peeling slightly, and each section was about the thickness of my thumb. "What is it?" I asked him.

"Ginger. It'll prevent you and your dad from becoming seasick while sailing back to Berk." Henrik glanced at my dad. "He'll definitely need it, considering his head."

I nodded, my trust in Henrik having progressed from not believing him at all to keeping quiet about what I thought. I still didn't believe him about Dagur's supposed future actions or the ginger, but I was now the primary representative of Berk. I couldn't deny him openly unless I wanted to be the cause of a war. I made a show of placing the ginger on top of my knapsack.

Henrik glanced at my peg for a beat and said, "Last year Dagur came back with news you had a peg leg. I was expecting a wooden peg, but why is yours so…complicated?"

I had awoken enough to avoid discussing Toothless at all. He was the reason why my peg was so fancy, but I figured I could skirt around the truth. I shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "I got bored pretty fast with a wooden peg. I like to make improvements on things when I have the chance."

"It's spring-loaded," Henrik said, probing.

"Well, yeah. That's why it's so intricate. The springs act as a cushion so that my knee doesn't hurt as much when I take a step," I said confidently. That was about half the truth.

"I've never seen iron like that," he continued.

I would have never guessed a Berserker to be that observant. Gronckle iron is much more lustrous than standard cast iron, but not even Trader Johann had noticed. Or if he had, ne never mentioned it or acted like he knew. I was thankful for the Gronckle iron because it was much stronger than traditional iron, it melted more uniformly, and (most important) it didn't rust.

"Uh…" I started. "I've been playing with different additives with iron." I lifted my peg slightly, as if that would help him understand.

Henrik nodded slowly, staring at my peg. "Oh…okay," he said haltingly. It seemed like he didn't believe what I was telling him. He kept staring at the peg for a moment. "You know, there are a few Vikings here who would love something like that."

"I'm not going to design pegs for them," I said quickly. "We can't stay away from Berk for that long." I motioned between myself and my dad as I explained why I didn't want to be here any longer.

Henrik shrugged a little. "Maybe next time," he conceded.

"Maybe," I repeated. And left it at that.

He beckoned me with his hand as he began walking. "You still need to sign the treaty. Normally, we'd have your father sign it, but Dagur is willing to make an exception today."

 _Is that what Dagur actually said, or is it what Henrik wants me to believe?_ I thought. If he never discussed it with Dagur, I'd have to explain my dad was incapacitated for the time being, and we had to return to Berk soon.

I followed Henrik as he opened the door. We walked a short distance toward the interior of Berserker Island. I glanced around the village briefly, looking for different things. Still couldn't spot a forge. There was no central plaza like we had on Berk. The paths connecting houses to each other were somewhat wider than what I was used to.

As we trudged slightly uphill toward Henrik's destination, a large black shape caught my attention. I froze, my legs having stopped working. The dragon we were hunting yesterday was splayed on the ground for everyone, including Odin, to see. It wasn't even a dragon anymore. It was a blood eagle. I was absolutely certain about that.

What was formerly the dragon was lying on its front, its legs spread out. The dragon's head had a sword shoved into the skull from the top, nearly hilted. Its eyes were open, staring at nothing. Its ribs were pointing skyward, having been ripped from the backbone. It looked like a reverse set of wings; instead of spreading from the back, the "wings" came from the dragon's sides. Two red masses were skewered in the middle of the ribs, jogging my memory about what I had forgotten.

Lay the enemy prone. Cut the ribs at the backbone. Peel the ribs away from the spine. Pull the lungs from the chest. Skewer the lungs on the ribs. And display the sacrifice for Odin to see.

I tried to look away for even a brief second, but my eyes wouldn't unlock from the scene. Where the ribs weren't covered in flesh and blood, they were ghost-white. They all had jagged tips, meaning Dagur had used his bare hands to break the ribs away from the backbone.

My knees quivered, my vision went blurry, and a second later I collapsed. I hurled again as I hit the ground, spitting out clear liquid that burned my throat and tasted horrible.

Henrik said something I couldn't understand, but he reached down and hoisted me up using my arms and chest. He dragged me toward the same house where we had first seen Dagur yesterday. And stopped about ten feet away from the entrance.

He looked straight into my eyes and said quietly, "Hiccup, I need you to focus. Please."

Slowly, I realized I was looking at a living human, not a mutilated dragon. I nodded weakly, locking eyes with him.

"Last year, Dagur said you protected him from a Night Fury attack. Is that true?"

I began panicking as my mind gained a small amount of traction. Everybody on Berserker Island was going to know the dragon attack on Berk last year was staged. "Y-yes," I lied weakly.

Henrik glanced away from me, making a show of checking whether anyone was listening. Looked back at me. "I don't believe that. Not after your reaction just now," he said, jerking a thumb toward the former dragon. He paused for a second, and then I saw his eyes narrow. He must have noticed I was worried. "I don't know what you do on Berk, but it doesn't appear you just like to tinker."

I had no idea what to say or do. Couldn't run for the hills because there was a peace treaty waiting for my signature. And I couldn't confess to Henrik about Toothless. Dagur wouldn't take long to find out about him, and he'd show up unannounced at Berk soon, ready to hunt a real Night Fury down. I stayed silent, not intentionally, but because I was caught with gripping panic.

"Come with me," he said quietly. Henrik dragged me away from the house, away from the blood eagle sacrifice, and away from the village.

The sun was beginning to rise on my left side, so we were headed south, away from the docks. Henrik stopped behind a wooden structure that was about the size of the house Dagur was in yesterday. But I smelled something metallic, and a gentle wave of heat met my right side. It was the forge I had been trying to see for the last day or so. I relaxed slightly, not because of Henrik, but I was in a spot that was comfortable to me.

"Hiccup," he started. He was staring directly into my eyes, and I noticed a tinge of worry. "I need your honest answer. What do you do with dragons?"

"Why do you need my answer for that?" I asked quietly, matching his tone of voice.

Henrik glanced around us again, looking for anyone who might be listening. He seemed genuine about his motions. "I think the dragon attack you saved Dagur from last year wasn't real. Am I right?"

I swallowed. "It...it was real," I lied. I did my best to hold eye contact with him. Looking away was a certainty I was lying.

"And if I told you I didn't want to hunt dragons like the rest of the Berserkers?"

I swallowed again, still worried. "I-I'd say that's your choice," I finally answered cryptically.

"Hiccup, I've been wondering if we're doing the wrong thing, killing dragons for sport."

I focused on Henrik. He was starting to sound like me when I found Toothless in the cove. "What are you getting at?" I asked, my expression taking on a slightly different tone.

Henrik took a quick breath and exhaled. Glanced around us again. "Come with me," he said.

He had already asked me to follow him once, so I guessed he was thinking hard about something. I followed anyway because I was the representative of Berk on this island.

Henrik led me past the forge, toward an area of wilderness on the island. I had noticed Berserker Island wasn't as jagged of an experience as Berk. All of the slopes were much gentler, and the island seemed larger than Berk too. The vegetation here was roughly the same as what I was used to, with several pine and fir trees dotting the island. The area Henrik was entering, though, was far denser forest than I was used to.

Henrik stopped maybe a hundred feet in or so. I looked back and could still see the village from here. But it would have probably been difficult to find us in here from the outside.

"Here," he said. He was looking at a rounded depression in the foliage, probably made by some large-ish animal for sleeping. "She likes this spot."

 _Who's 'she'?_ I thought.

As if on cue, Henrik looked back at me and noticed my confusion. "I have to keep her a secret," he said.

"I'm sorry?" I slowly asked.

"Just follow me," he said for the third time.

I shrugged, but didn't say a word. Henrik was being awfully cryptic about this entire production, and I was starting to get a strong feeling it was about some kind of dragon, thanks to the clues he dropped.

We must have trudged through about a mile of forest, if not longer. I was slightly out of breath when Henrik stopped again. He slowly peeked around a large pine and stayed there for a second. When he turned back toward me, he had that sparkle in his eyes. "No quick movements. Be ready to run just in case."

As Henrik turned back around, I grinned. I didn't even have to see what he was talking about, and I knew it was a dragon.

The entire time from when I began taking care of Toothless up until last night, I had wondered whether there were other people like me. Other people like the Vikings who lived on Berk. I had never found anyone like that, until now.

I followed Henrik into a small clearing, where a bipedal dragon was sniffing him. He was standing too close to that dragon for it to simply be wild, so I guessed he must have had plenty of contact with her.

The dragon was too small to be a Deadly Nadder. That was certain. She was still taller than Henrik though. Her wings, had both of them been intact, were much smaller than a Nadder's. Her right wing was folded at an awkward angle, so I figured she had some kind of injury in the past that never quite healed. The wing also looked like part of it had been ripped away. The dragon had two small arms, but neither of them looked dilapidated or injured. She had a pronounced underbite with sharp teeth extending upward from her lower jaw, although her teeth weren't as exaggerated as the supposed Night Fury Dagur had killed last night. The dragon had a frill on the back of her head, and her skin was mostly yellow with a shade of green blended in. Well, at least until she looked at me.

When the dragon made eye contact with me, her skin changed from yellow to a very slight red. And I recognized in her subtle change of facial expression that I was something new in her environment. She didn't seem to like change. Henrik was her idea of normal, and she probably viewed any other human nearby as a threat.

Instinctively, I tensed just a little, ready to run for cover. But I stayed put, waiting until the very last minute to get out of there. The dragon bobbed her head slightly, her frill extended, making a soft, high-pitched rumble in her throat. I couldn't tell whether she was making a threat display or if she was simply trying to decide what to do with me. I caught a glimpse of her tail swishing through the air, a single fin at the tip of it.

I had been around dragons enough to know most of the basic rules. First, never _ever_ present yourself as a threat. That being said, you can't act like you're scared either. There's a middle ground that has to be established, and it has to be done quickly. The most reliable tactic I had found so far was to stand generally straight and keep neutral eye contact. This worked with most dragons, although I had found some exceptions. Like Changewings, which just so conveniently have this pesky ability to hypnotize.

Second, you let the dragon approach. Let it take the first step. A dragon is always more calm when it feels like it has control of its surroundings.

And third, always be ready to defend yourself. Or run. Because the world is never a perfect little idyll, and dragons typically spook just as easily as other animals.

The dragon turned to look at Henrik for a brief second and then turned her attention back to me. She took a halting step forward with her right leg, followed by a small lurch with her left. She had what looked to be a clubbed foot on her right side.

I saw the focus in her eyes as she kept her gaze on me. She had her head turned just slightly to her right because her eyes were more on the sides of her head. Her eyes were yellow with slits for pupils, kinda like a cat's. As she approached, I noticed a small horn at the tip of her snout. And her skin was slowly changing from a light red to more of a purple color.

 _Her skin reflects her mood_ , I thought. With Henrik, her skin was mostly yellow. She probably trusted him. When I showed up, she changed to red. Because she perceived me as a threat. And now, her skin was purple. Maybe because she was curious?

After three halting steps with her right foot, the dragon was finally close enough for me to touch. She was probably nine or ten feet tall at full height. She slowly bent toward me and began sniffing at my chest. I stayed absolutely still, letting her decide what she wanted to do. I wasn't going to touch her until she gave me permission. So I waited. Felt her breath as she breathed out. But as she found my peg, I didn't feel like I was in danger anymore. As long as I didn't make any sudden movements, I figured I would be okay. I had learned from experience that a dragon will typically decide to attack within about three seconds during the first encounter with someone. After that, the dragon will either quit the area or investigate further.

She used her arms for balance as she inspected my peg, so I waited for her to finish with it. I always tried to make sure Toothless could see what I was doing around him, and I guessed this dragon would be the same. There was no need to startle her.

The dragon brought her head back up and stood there, looking at me, unmoving for a second. I took that as my cue to approach. I slowly raised my left hand and put my palm on the side of her chest. And left it there, feeling her tension slowly melt away. Success. There aren't very many feelings better than when a dragon warms up to you.

"You're beautiful," I whispered to her. And I meant it. I smiled, mirroring her relaxation.

Henrik nodded. "I _knew_ there was more to you," he said, his inflection betraying a grin. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

I shrugged slightly as I rubbed the dragon's side, watching her skin slowly morph back to a yellowish color. "What kind of dragon is she?" I asked, avoiding his observation.

"Don't know. We've seen several of them before, but she's lame and can't fly. I think they're pack animals that abandoned her."

I looked back at her wing and foot. "What happened to her?"

"The foot's probably just the way she is," Henrik said. "I think the wing is from some kind of fight a long time ago." He slowly approached the dragon again and began working on her other side. The dragon sighed, relaxing under our touch. "I come out here in secret to take care of her. I guess if another Berserker finds her, she'll have lived the last part of her life happy."

Henrik said that last comment like he knew her time was limited. I stopped rubbing the dragon's side as I remembered those exact feelings when I was keeping Toothless a secret. Deep down inside, I knew there was no way I could keep a secret like him. I should have been accepting of that fact, but all I could think of at the time was how I didn't want to lose Toothless. Not after he had changed my life.

I was guessing Henrik felt the same way about this dragon. Even though she was essentially an invalid to her species, Henrik saw a friend in her anyway. He gave her a second chance at life, even if it was hopeless. Just like I did with Toothless.

"How many more Berserkers are like you?" I asked him.

Henrik's expression went blank for a second. "A few, I guess. I don't trust anyone enough to be around her though."

"Did you name her?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Never really thought about it." He paused with a deep breath. "I don't think she's gonna live much longer anyway."

He said that last sentence like he was trying to distance himself somehow. Like how his goal was to make sure nobody saw how distraught he would be when someone killed her.

I looked down for a brief moment, my hand still in contact with her side. Turned my attention back toward the dragon, and moved my hand underneath her deformed wing. She leaned into the pressure with a contented sigh, telling me she liked what I was doing. I glanced at her face and smiled again. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was next to Toothless.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," I said quietly.

Henrik looked at me. "It's not your fault. I found her starving one day. I went back to the village and brought her some fish just thinking she didn't need to starve to death. But when I put the fish down in front of her, she didn't eat right away. She stared at me for a few seconds before she started. Like she was thanking me, I guess. I came back the next day and fed her again. And after the third day, she let me touch her." He paused with a sigh. "Dagur's been telling us to hunt down any dragons we see. He says they are only good for their meat, and if we let them live, they'll burn our village down." He paused again. "But what he's saying doesn't match her." He motioned toward the dragon.

I felt tears forming in my eyes. Tried to keep them hidden because I didn't want to be seen as weak for the time being. But Henrik was describing almost exactly what I went through nearly two years ago. Whether he liked it or not, he brought back a flood of memories. I turned back toward his dragon and stroked her flank again, trying to hide what I was feeling. She was incredibly calm, considering her foot and wing.

"You're not alone," I finally said after a long silence.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He had a confused look on his face.

"The exact same thing happened to me with a dragon."

"Wh-what?" he asked. His tone told me he couldn't believe someone else was like him.

I nodded. "I wanted to kill a dragon to fit in with the rest of Berk. And I actually shot one down. When I found him, I realized I had permanently crippled him."

Henrik was absolutely silent and unblinking.

"He can't fly without me anymore. I kept him a secret, but people on Berk eventually figured it out."

"Did…did they kill him?" he asked quietly.

I sighed. "Almost. It took us fighting against a gargantuan dragon to convince everyone to keep him alive."

"I don't think there's one of _those_ nearby," he said.

"Yeah, don't go that way. I lost my leg because of it. But you can find someone you trust here. Have them give your dragon a fish or two. It'll be slow, but it's possible."

"What's possible?"

"What I'm trying to tell you is that you can live with dragons nearby. They don't need to be hunted or killed." I paused. "My dragon's living proof of it."

"What kind of dragon?" he asked quickly.

"I'll show you if you come to Berk. And if you keep it a secret from the rest of your tribe."

"It's a deal," he said without a pause. And grinned, that sparkle in his eye returning.

I looked back up at his dragon, whose skin was still yellow. Probably her comfort color. She stayed where she was, soaking up our attention. Completely relaxed.

"You still need to sign the treaty," Henrik said after a while, bringing me back to reality.

I sighed. I knew I'd have to walk past that reminder that Henrik's chief had the exact opposite thoughts about dragons he did. But I didn't have a choice. "Okay," I said under my breath. "Let's go."

Henrik brushed the back of his hand underneath the dragon's lower jaw. She gave a short moan as we walked away, her head tilted just slightly. It looked like she was wondering why we had to leave her.

 _It's always hard to leave a dragon, even for a short time,_ I thought.

We trekked through the forest on our way back to the village, Henrik leading in a slightly different path than we took toward his dragon. As we walked, I had probably the strangest thought I've ever had.

I was actually looking forward to the Berserkers' next visit to Berk.


	9. Chapter 9

I tried to brace myself for the sight of the dragon again. It was close enough to the house that you couldn't just "look away" from it, and you could easily smell that penetrating coppery odor when entering and exiting the house. There was no choice. I'd just have to hurry.

Before we exited the woods, Henrik stopped and turned toward me. "Keep that dragon a secret." He motioned with his head behind us, referring to his dragon.

"What dragon?" I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

He picked up on it immediately and answered, "Exactly."

Henrik led me back toward the village, away from the forge and armory. As we rounded a corner, the dragon's corpse appeared, bringing back the same wave of nausea as earlier. I looked down and focused on Henrik's heels, following them. After about ten steps, he stopped briefly and pulled the door open.

We entered the same house where Dagur was before the hunt yesterday. It was definitely larger than most of the other buildings around. Just like I had observed yesterday.

Inside, the hearth boasted a welcoming fire. A long table was set about halfway between the hearth and the entry. On it were cuts of meat and fish, as well as an assortment of berries. Not all that dissimilar to Berk. I figured the meat was from some kind of dragon. Possibly from the "Night Fury" Dagur had killed. I didn't want to eat or drink anything, having lost my appetite. But I made a mental note to swipe some of the berries and a little water for the trip back.

"Here's the treaty," Henrik said as he directed me toward the table. "You'll need to sign it."

The treaty was a sheet of parchment that had not been rolled or bent in any way. Not like how we present it.

As I leaned over to begin reading, Dagur's voice came from near the hearth. "I thought Stoick was supposed to be here." His voice was barely audible and sounded nothing like what I was used to. Normally Dagur was pretty close to Snotlout in his speech: loud and obnoxious. Today, his voice was a hoarse rasp, almost like even breathing hurt his throat.

Before I could say anything, Henrik reminded him, "Stoick has a head injury. Remember?"

I looked up and saw a pale and haggard Dagur. His eyes were sunken just slightly, like he was short on sleep. Just like me. His upper right arm was heavily wrapped, and blood was still seeping through the bandages. I also noticed his skin on his right shoulder, neck and chest was a mottled pinkish-red, like he had accidentally fallen into a fire. Must have been where the dragon shot him with that fireball.

I wondered if this much risk and injury was really worth hunting dragons. Dagur would take several weeks, if not months, to recover from last night, and he'd probably just go on another hunt again. This was a lifestyle I definitely did _not_ want to have.

He made a show of slowly thinking about what Henrik had reminded him and finally said quietly, "Yes, you told me. Hiccup can sign the treaty." Dagur made absolutely no effort to move his head, so every time he looked at me, he was looking upward slightly.

What Henrik had said about Dagur last night seemed to be correct. I didn't want to entertain staying here longer than we needed to, so I read through the treaty.

 _Berserker and Hooligan Peace Treaty_

 _This treaty certifies for one year that the tribes between Berk and Berserker Island will remain at peace. The treaty is broken if the Hooligans attack Berserker Island in any way, shape, or form, and Berk will be subject to retaliation as the Berserkers see fit. Contact between the two tribes shall not be limited as long as representatives from each tribe can agree to meet peacefully and without conflict. Any activities involving dragons are not covered under the treaty. This includes dragon hunting, defending a village from dragon raids, etc. The Berserkers may hunt dragons on Berk, given permission from any Hooligan representative._

 _The representatives of each tribe, signed below, give full enactment of the treaty, effective immediately._

 _Berserkers: Dagur the Deranged_

 _Hooligans:_

The writing on the treaty was perfectly legible, and there were no errors. I wondered if the same scribe who wrote the request for us to come here was the author of this treaty.

The contents of the treaty were pretty straightforward, almost what I expected, except for the dragon thing. That was a decision I mulled over for a second before resigning myself to accepting that condition. I felt a small weight drop in my stomach as I made the decision because I knew the Berserkers could ask anyone on Berk for "permission" to hunt dragons. Including someone like Mildew. But the treaty would have probably been null and void had I objected right here to that clause. Most of the Vikings who lived in Berk were at least tolerant of dragons, so I guessed it wouldn't be a stretch to warn them about the treaty.

I sighed as I signed my full name next to the word "Hooligans."

Step one was finished. Step two was now in effect. I had to find a tactful way to leave this island.

"Dagur, thanks for your hospitality," I said, trying to make it sound like I wasn't lying.

He slowly nodded in disinterest without saying a word.

I turned to Henrik. "Thanks for your help." I winked surreptitiously at him, giving him a subtle hint that his secret about the dragon was safe with me. He grinned slightly back at me, returning the message.

"Anytime," he said. Based on the way Dagur was acting and the way he treated that dragon, I chose to believe Henrik about the ginger.

"We need to get ready for the trip back to Berk," I said succinctly.

"Do you need any food or drink for the trip back?" Henrik asked before I could move.

I paused for a brief second. "That'd be nice," I said.

"Take whatever you want," he replied. "There are leather satchels behind you. I'll get a canteen with water for you."

I turned around. Just like Henrik said, there were several small leather pouches piled against the wall. I grabbed one and stuffed it mostly with berries. And to make sure I was a decent guest, I took some of the meat strips, which looked eerily similar to the Nadder meat I had eaten last night.

"Thank you again," I said after I had filled the pouch.

Henrik pressed a leather canteen into my hand, presumably filled with water. "Don't forget," he whispered. He was referring to Toothless.

I nodded slightly, holding eye contact with him.

Henrik motioned with his hand, saying I was free to leave. He turned back to Dagur and said something, who slowly moved his gaze toward his cohort.

I exited without another word. And quickly walked past the dragon's corpse, holding my breath. As I rounded the corner, I exhaled and checked the direction to the docks. My dad would be able to see the dragon on our path, but we wouldn't have to walk past it. I strode toward our guest house and entered. Packed my belongings, including my ruined shirt, the ginger, and the food pouch into the knapsack. Walked over to my dad and nudged his shoulder.

He stirred with a groan and sat up slowly, his head probably still throbbing.

I sighed. "The treaty's signed. We can go."

He was still looking down, sitting on the edge of the bed. Slowly, his eyes rose to meet mine. "You signed it?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, I did. Dagur let me."

Without another word, my dad stood, wobbled for a bit on his feet, and began shuffling toward the door. He had a noticeable slope in his upper back, like he was trying to keep from moving his head too much.

We made our way toward the ocean. On our right was the dragon. On the left was the cave system we were in last night. I noticed a trail of blood leading from the cave toward the dragon, where Dagur had dragged its corpse last night. But I kept walking, my eyes set on the boat we had here.

It was still intact with its food stores. The berries I had originally brought were probably no good anymore. I figured we could stay alive on the hardtack that was left, coupled with the berries, meat and water I had taken from Dagur's house.

I threw my knapsack into the boat and helped my dad step in. Rummaged around in the knapsack and pulled out the ginger. And handed it to my dad. "One of the Berserkers says this will keep you from getting seasick," I told him.

My dad looked at the ginger, trying to focus. Eventually, he said, "What is it?"

"They call it 'ginger.' I think you have to peel it first."

He shrugged. Placed the ginger with the food supplies. "I think I'll be fine," he said stubbornly.

I tied the sail to the mast and untied the mooring rope. Sat down and grabbed the oars. And began rowing. Slowly. There was nobody to see us off, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I didn't want to think about it for too long.

I watched as Berserker Island slowly receded into the distance. I kept rowing at a slow pace, each stroke moving us just slightly closer toward Berk. And Toothless.

* * *

Toothless.

Toothless.

Toothless.

I kept my mind focused only on my dragon as I rowed. Berserker Island had already faded into the distance, and around us, the open ocean was the only thing to see. It was amazing how empty the ocean's surface really was. I wondered how Trader Johann seemed to know where he was going so easily.

We were heading in the right direction. I kept occasional watch on my shadow as it moved from my left to right. At the moment, my shadow ended almost on my right side of the boat. Port side, I guessed, because my back was facing our destination. At my best estimate, I had been rowing for about three hours. I had worked myself into a trance with rowing, so the lack of food or sleep didn't faze me. At least until I thought about it, breaking the trance. My stomach growled, telling me for the umpteenth time I hadn't eaten all day.

I sighed as I pulled the oars into the boat. Stood and shuffled toward the meager store of food we had available. Like I had thought, the berries from Berk were withered. No good to eat. I threw them into the water behind us for any fish to find. We only had four hardtack biscuits left, plus the food and water I had snagged from Dagur's table. I pulled a biscuit out and began crunching on it. And relaxed for a few minutes to let my muscles rest. I opened the canteen and took a few swigs of water, then closed it and placed it back with the food stores.

Neither my dad nor I said a word after we had cast off from Berserker Island. But as I finished the biscuit, my dad groaned like he was gonna be ill.

"Eat some of the ginger," I suggested to him.

His stubbornness wasn't invincible, because he turned slightly and grabbed the ginger Henrik had given us. He broke off part of the root with an audible _snap_ and peeled it. Looked it over. And ate it.

"You could almost drink that," he said as he put the ginger back down. "Doesn't taste that bad either." He was still moving slowly, as if he was trying to avoid becoming sick.

I sat there, resting for about ten minutes. The muscles under my shoulder blades were aching from all the rowing I had been doing. It was a small price to pay, because I had a Night Fury waiting for me on Berk. I didn't want to make him wait any longer than I already had.

My dad slowly sat up with another groan. His head was still hurting, but I saw a hint of focus in his eyes.

"I'm feeling a lot better. You can rest, Hiccup." My dad stood, rocking the boat slightly, and took my place at the oars. I sat down where he was, marveling at what the ginger did for him. Henrik was absolutely correct on both counts. He told me exactly how Dagur was gonna act, and he told me exactly what to use the ginger for. I absolutely trusted him. And I was beginning to hope I would see him next year during the peace treaty renewal so that I could return the favor.

I saw my dad grimace as he pulled on the oars, getting us a small distance closer to Berk. He shortened his stroke a little to keep from moving his head and slowed his pace. Our speed also slowed considerably, but we were still moving in the right direction. And on top of that, I got to rest for a while. I knew I'd have to take over rowing again soon to keep my dad from overexerting himself, but for now, I squeezed myself near our food stores for some much-needed sleep.

* * *

I woke up under a dark sky filled with stars and soft green swirls. It reminded me of Toothless breathing, how the sounds he produced were rhythmic and gentle. I took a deep breath as I sat up and stretched my lower back. My dad had already given up rowing for the time being, but I wasn't sure how long ago that was. He was asleep again on the opposite side of the boat.

Checking the food stores, we had two hardtack biscuits left. Some of the berries were also gone. There were two strips of meat left, both of which were beginning to dry out. I grumbled as I pulled the meat out of the bag. This was a moral quandary because I didn't want to be eating Nadder meat. I couldn't help but think of Stormfly. But if I let it sit, the meat would probably be spoiled the next time my dad got to it. No sense in letting perfectly good food go to waste, especially when our stores were already limited.

I forced down the meat and sat down at the oars. Began rowing, working myself into a trance. I focused on my breathing, trying to shut down all of my senses except for my hearing. I heard the oars splash as they entered the water for each stroke. Heard them pull through the water. And I heard them dripping as I moved them backward for another stroke. I tried to match my breathing with the rhythm I was creating with the oars. Exhale when pulling through the water. Inhale when out of the water.

Before long, I had a steady rhythm going. Every time I breathed out, my throat made a slight guttural sound as I exhaled. But I wasn't getting tired, and my breathing wasn't any harder than it should have been. I retreated into my little world as the rest of the night disappeared around me.

* * *

Time moves faster when you're engaged in something. And it was moving especially fast, because the eastern sky was just beginning to show a hint of lighter color. Daylight was quickly approaching. I had rowed throughout most of the night without stopping.

I relaxed as my senses came filtering back to me. I felt my chest heaving from breathing heavily through my mouth. The sun began peeking over the eastern horizon, giving me just enough light to see around us. I turned around, hoping to spot anything that might have been an island. But I wasn't expecting to see anything except more water.

I wondered how long my dad and I had actually rowed on our way to Berserker Island. Couldn't remember. We had a favorable wind going there, which definitely eased the workload on us. And that same wind from the north was gently blowing today, so that was why we had the sail tied to the mast.

One day finished. Our absolute limit was three days once the canteen ran dry. Because you can't survive without water for more than about three days on end. So, assuming we had no water left, we had two days left at sea before our situation became dire. Just to be sure, I checked my neck with my hand. Pulled it away and noticed a faint sheen of sweat on my palm. I still had enough water to function.

I slowly stood and reached over my dad's side toward the canteen. Sloshed it around. Maybe a third of the way full with water. I opened it and took a sip.

I turned around again and saw a small, faint shape breaking the horizon. My heart rate quickened. The sun was on my right-hand side, and the day had just begun. We were heading north. I was pretty certain that was Berk. And Toothless. And Astrid.

I took a deep breath and turned back around. Grabbed the oars and started rowing again. My throat felt much drier than normal, probably because of the grunting I was doing throughout the night coupled with no water. I scowled, looking at the canteen by my right foot. I wondered if I should finish the water or if I should wait. Our water stores would probably buy me about another day, as long as I slowed my pace down enough to keep from breathing heavily.

I shrugged on the inside and drank the last of our water. We still had the berries, which had at least some water in them, but the hardtack biscuits weren't going to be a food source anymore, considering how dry they naturally were.

Rowing this time was much more difficult. My head was throbbing slightly, and my muscles wouldn't quite obey what I wanted them to do. It was harder to pull the oars through the water, but I tried to lose myself in a trance again, hoping to block out any problems and just get home. Couldn't do it this time. I slowed my pace down, and that seemed to work for a short while.

After maybe ten minutes, I felt my muscles beginning to work a little more efficiently again. I sighed in a mixture of relief and frustration, cursing my impatience. I took a deep breath trying to calm myself and turned around to check our direction once more.

It was Berk for certain. That familiar mountain was becoming more of a feature than a generic shape. At a decent rowing pace, we had maybe thirty minutes to go. At my pace, probably an hour. It was doable.

Inhale when resetting for a stroke. Exhale when pulling the oars through the water.

Inhale. Exhale.

I focused only on my breathing rhythm again, listening to the cues from the water to guide me. And slowly lost my perception of everything around me again.

I only came out of my trance when I heard the tone of the splashing water change. It was very slight, but still noticeable. Looking up, I noticed we were maybe five minutes away from tying up at the docks. Five minutes away from Berk.

Five minutes away from home.

 _Just a little longer,_ I told myself. I turned and saw a green two-headed dragon peek over the ledge leading toward the docks. And a second later, two long-haired Vikings on either side of it. Barf and Belch and the twins. Joining them was an earth-colored dragon and Fishlegs.

Fishlegs was first onto his dragon's back. Meatlug took off and headed on a beeline straight toward us. As they approached I saw an excited look on her face. And Fishlegs was just as happy.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I bolted upright, rocking the boat and nearly capsizing it. My dad stirred with a grunt, wondering what was happening. I waited for the rocking to stop, then grabbed our mooring rope and tossed it upward. And predictably, it fell miserably short.

"We'll get there!" Fishlegs shouted.

I scooped up the mooring rope from the water and waited for a few seconds.

"Okay, try it again," he said as he got within close range of the boat.

I heaved the rope upward, and Fishlegs caught it with his left hand. No problem. I stood and tied the mooring rope to the end of the boat for Fishlegs and Meatlug to bring us to the docks, noticing how sore my middle back was. Compared to what Dagur had to heal, this was almost nothing. But I knew how difficult it would be to use my shoulders for anything for the next few days.

As soon as I cinched the rope, I felt a sudden pull as Meatlug began flying back toward Berk. I sighed in relief. We were seconds away from home. I was seconds away from seeing Toothless and Astrid again.

And I didn't want to do anything except relax and decompress. I just wanted to _be_ with them. Doing absolutely nothing. I wanted to forget about what I had witnessed on Berserker Island, except for Henrik's dragon. Maybe sometime I'd ask Fishlegs about her.

The boat crunched into the wooden slats on the docks. I squeezed past my dad again and grabbed the knapsack. And helped him out of the boat. I was definitely excited about being home, but I knew I still had to help my dad up to level ground.

We climbed the ramps up to the village at a moderate pace. Gobber was the first to meet us there. He saw my dad's pained expression, and his look of anticipation turned into one of mild shock.

"What happened to him?" he asked.

"Head injury," I mumbled.

Gobber didn't need me to fill in the blanks for him. He looped my dad's right arm over his shoulder and said, "Go see your dragon."

I didn't need to be told twice. Immediately, I took off toward Astrid's house, noticing she wasn't outside. Neither was Stormfly or Toothless. That was odd, because she would have found out very quickly from the others and brought Toothless out to greet me.

I didn't even knock, pushing her door open. Inside, Astrid was sitting on the floor next to her dragon. Both of them looked at me. Astrid's expression told me something was horribly wrong nearby. Toothless was maybe ten feet away, his breathing shallow. I saw the slats of his ribs, regardless of whether he was inhaling or exhaling. And he never raised his head to look at me.

I froze, Astrid's door completely open. Nobody made a sound for a few seconds. Eventually, I was the first to break the silence.

"He...he didn't eat," I whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

"Hiccup, I'm sorry," Astrid said quietly with a worried look on her face. "I couldn't get him to eat or drink anything."

I sighed, but didn't say anything as I slowly walked toward Toothless. He was curled up like he was sleeping, his back facing me. I put my hand underneath his wing, on his ribs, and felt how much five days had taken from him. I could feel the bones under his skin. Typically, there was a fair amount of muscle on his side so that it felt uniform rather than ridged.

"Toothless?" I said to him. "Hey, buddy." I was hoping for even just a small reaction, but nothing happened. Toothless never responded to me.

I shuffled around to his front, where I noticed his eyes were closed. His breaths were still shallow. I leaned closer and gently placed a hand on his snout.

"Hey, bud. It's me. Hiccup," I whispered. There was no response again.

I sat down, my back to his side, and began stroking his head with my left hand. I was looking for any sign of a reaction. Maybe he'd finally open his eyes and look at me, which would have been the best thing that could happen. Or maybe I'd notice him making an effort to ignore me, which would have also been positive.

Nothing. No change in his breathing, and no movement from his head.

"I didn't know what to do," Astrid said. "I just hoped you'd come back quickly."

Stormfly moaned quietly, startling me just a little. I had forgotten she was inside Astrid's house too. Normally, she stayed in or near an open wooden pen just outside of the house.

I had no idea what to say to Astrid or Stormfly. I had walked up the wooden ramps leading from the docks with my dad, ready for Toothless to come running toward me and nearly flatten me with his excited greeting he liked to do. I was gonna decompress and simply relax, listening to Toothless breathing. But I couldn't do that now.

I finally decided on what I was gonna do, at least for today and through the night.

"I'm gonna stay here with Toothless," I said to Astrid. Never looked at her though. I only kept my eyes on Toothless, gently stroking his head.

"You'd better," she warned. Switched her tone and asked, "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

I turned my gaze toward her. "Yeah, that'd be great. Something cooked and water."

Astrid stood and said to her dragon, "C'mon, girl." Stormfly rose to her feet and followed Astrid out of her house.

I stayed next to Toothless. After what had transpired in the last week, it didn't take long for that empty, hopeless feeling to find me. There was nothing I could do to hide the tears coming out of my eyes. I was too emotionally drained to even brush them away. I only continued to stroke Toothless' head, losing any perception of the outside world. I was right next to him, but I didn't feel secure like I normally did around him.

I had lost track of time when Astrid came back with a cooked fish of some kind and a mugful of water. I didn't say a word as she handed them to me. I chugged the water first without pausing for a breath, then started on the fish, not even tasting it.

"You're thirsty," she stated obviously.

I didn't respond as I started eating the fish Astrid had brought. I ate it without tasting it. And within a few minutes, I had finished what was edible and placed the rest of the fish back onto the stone plate on the floor in front of me. And heaved a deep sigh.

There was a long silence between us, punctuated by the occasional sound of Toothless struggling to breathe. I turned slightly toward Astrid and asked, "When was the last time he ate or drank anything?"

"Um, three days ago, but the evening after you left, he barely got through half the fish I brought. He's probably been hungry since your second day away."

"And drinking?"

"Three days ago," Astrid said after some thought.

Three days without water. Not only was Toothless going hungry, he was probably at the survivable limit of dehydration. A weight dropped in my stomach as I realized Toothless could die at any moment.

"Can…can you get some water for him?" I asked, trying to hide my concern. It didn't work, because there was a noticeable quaver to my voice.

Astrid didn't say a word. She simply stood and walked toward her table. On it were three buckets full of water I didn't notice earlier. She brought one back and set it down next to Toothless' head.

I stared at my dragon, wondering about the best way to get him to drink any water. He wasn't going to find it voluntarily. And he probably wasn't going to open his mouth on his own. I had to force him to drink it. Somehow, I'd have to open his mouth and splash water onto his tongue, and Toothless would have to make the decision to swallow. Pouring was out of the question because he'd choke. Or drown.

"Time for something crazy," I said without feeling. Before Astrid could respond, I continued. "I'm gonna open his mouth. Can you splash water on his tongue?" I looked at Astrid, waiting for her to tell me just how insane I was.

She shrugged. "That's not too crazy," she said.

I took a deep breath and straddled over the back of Toothless' head. Bent down and wormed the fingers of my left hand between his lips in the front of his mouth. I felt generally disgusted as my hands found their way between his gums. His teeth were retracted, although I could feel the pits where they were lodged. Knowing there was support there, I hooked my fingers around his upper gums.

Normally Toothless' mouth was dripping with his saliva. What made it absolutely bizarre was the dryness of the feeling. I felt how sticky and dry his gums were, and brushing his tongue was like rubbing the back of my fingers against rough, treated leather. He was severely dehydrated, no doubt.

Even though I was disgusted having to open his mouth, I had to do something to help him. Toothless was the reason we had dragons wandering around Berk today. He was the main reason for me to live for nearly the past two years. There was no little voice in my head saying I shouldn't be doing this, no second thoughts about how gross my method to keep Toothless alive. He was worth a little discomfort to me.

I pulled upward slightly, causing his lips to suck together. His mouth opened slightly, but not enough for Astrid to do anything. Just like any bony animal, Toothless' upper jaw was immobile. I needed to open his lower jaw for this to work.

I pushed my right thumb between his lips, hooked it over his lower gums and pulled downward gently. Toothless made absolutely no resistance to my hands intruding on his mouth, which caused me to drop further into worry. I hadn't trained him at all on something like this, and never really wanted to anyway. So it stood to reason that he'd normally be hesitant for me to open his mouth.

Of all ironies, I was thankful he didn't try to pull away from my hands. His mouth made a loud sucking noise as I pulled downward on his jaw, exposing his tongue to Astrid. She took the cue and used her hand to splash water about four times onto his tongue.

"Is he doing anything?" I asked.

Astrid looked into Toothless' mouth for a second or two and then nodded, unblinking. "He's moving his tongue. Looks like he's trying to swallow."

With enough presence of mind to keep Toothless from biting into his lips, I slowly brought his jaws back together. As soon as I pulled my fingers out of his mouth, his neck rippled.

I heaved a sigh of relief as he swallowed the water. It didn't mean he was definitely gonna live, but he was at least making an effort.

I stepped over Toothless' neck and knelt near his head, gently rubbing into the area behind his right eye. "You did great, buddy," I said with a little smile. I felt that connection between us again as I smiled. Maybe it was me imagining things, because Toothless never opened his eyes to look at me. But I felt like he finally realized it was me.

I continued rubbing into his head, trying to encourage him to finally wake up. Toothless pulled in a slightly larger breath than what he had been doing recently and tried to heave a sigh. He didn't have that bellows-type sound he normally did, but the effort was still there. I watched him carefully for any signal, and sure enough, he opened his mouth slightly and stuck the tip of his tongue out. It was out for maybe a second or so, but as Toothless pulled his tongue back in, I knew he wanted more water.

"Put the bucket under his chin when I lift," I said to Astrid. She nodded without looking at me, waiting for her cue.

I straddled Toothless' neck again and bent down using my legs instead of my back. Wrapped my hands underneath his chin and felt for the back of his jawbone. I couldn't lift using his neck because it would interfere with his throat, but if I grasped too far forward, he wouldn't be able to tilt his head down. As dehydrated as Toothless was, I'd have been surprised if he could move his head at all.

I found the corner of his jawbone and lifted, using my legs. His head came off the floor pointed at a slight downward angle, just like I had envisioned. Astrid immediately placed the bucket under his chin, so I slowly brought his head back down until I felt him inhale slightly. He smelled something, and a second later, I felt his tongue working, lapping up the water. He swallowed several times, his throat and neck rippling under my hands.

"That's it, buddy," I whispered to him. "Just keep going."

I heard the bucket drag against the wooden floor. "It's empty," Astrid said to me.

I put Toothless' chin back onto the floor, where it didn't take him long to make the same motion with his tongue again. He stuck the tip out and smacked his lips as he retracted it, asking for more water.

Astrid and I went through the same drill for all three buckets of water, and Toothless cleaned out all three. I hoped it would be enough for the night.

"Thanks, Astrid," I whispered to her. My legs were a little shaky from holding Toothless' head in a shallow squat, and my hands still felt gross, but Toothless was on his way to rehydrating.

As I stepped away Toothless' neck again, Astrid caught my arm and pulled me into a tight hug. "You'd do anything for your dragon."

I nodded somberly. And returned her hug. We stayed there for a few minutes, not moving. After a short moment, I felt the experience of the dragon hunt with Dagur begin to lift off of my shoulders. Astrid must have felt it too, because she draped her chin over my shoulder and held me steady. But neither of us said a word. In my mind, I thanked Astrid for working her magic at the right time as a tear made its way down my face.

Astrid broke off our hug after a while and looked me in the eye. Brushed the tear off my face and gently pulled me using my arm toward her table. We sat down. She was the first to say something. "I don't know what happened on Berserker Island, but it must not have been good."

I looked down at her table. And slowly shook my head. "Dagur wanted to hunt a dragon, and it killed one of the Berserkers," I said after a long silence.

"What kind of dragon?"

I shrugged. "Never seen one like it. Dagur thought it was a Night Fury, but it wasn't."

"Is that how your dad got injured?"

"Yeah, the dragon could burrow. It dug underneath my dad's feet, and he didn't get out of the way fast enough. Fell and hit the back of his head on the ground."

Astrid winced slightly. "I'm sorry you two had to be part of that."

I sighed. "Do you…" I started, trying to figure out how I was gonna say this. "Do you ever feel, I guess, _guilty_ that you survived something? Or if you get out of somewhere without injury?"

Astrid looked at me curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Like…if you don't get injured, but everyone else around you does." I paused, thinking, but no other words came to my mind.

She shrugged. "I think I've heard of that before. It's weird, whatever it is."

"Was there something I could have done?" I asked.

"Huh?" she asked.

"The dragon burned Gunnar alive," I clarified. "I shoulda done something to prevent him from dying."

Astrid recoiled, and I expected her to say something about Gunnar's death. Or to rail at me for being unreasonable. But she didn't. "Tell me something _good_ that happened on Berserker Island," she said with a hint of emphasis.

I scoffed at her, still stuck in my guilt. "I didn't die," I said flatly.

"That's not an answer, Hiccup. Make an effort."

I rolled my eyes, not caring if she saw it. But Astrid was persistent, so I begrudgingly went along with her suggestion. "A Berserker showed me he was taking care of a dragon," I said after a silence.

"That's good," she observed. "What kind?"

I shrugged. "Never seen a dragon like it," I said.

"Did you tell him about Toothless?"

I looked slightly away from Astrid. "Kinda. He knows I have a dragon on Berk, but that's it."

"And he's gonna be here next year, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I guess we can ask for him to come, just like they did for me."

"How does he keep the dragon a secret?" Astrid asked.

I thought her question was a little irrelevant. She already knew the answer to how I kept Toothless a secret. But I told her anyway. "There's a thick forest just outside of the Berserker village. He feeds the dragon fish every day." And without waiting, I continued. "Her skin changes colors because of her mood."

"That's…interesting," Astrid said.

"Yeah. She's beautiful. Just like you."

Astrid looked away from me just slightly and blushed. She tried to hide a sheepish grin.

I smiled a little, realizing she was doing exactly what Toothless could do pretty much at will. She made me relax just by being with me.

I looked back at Toothless, who was still in the same position as earlier. I didn't feel as distressed about his condition, although it had barely changed. He was probably still dehydrated. And hungry.

"Can…can I bring some fish back for Toothless?" I asked Astrid.

She looked at him, smiled a little, and looked back at me. "Sure. Stormfly needs something to eat too."

"What about you?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she said, brushing my question off. But I heard a small hint in her voice that said she was hungry too.

I had just eaten, thanks to Astrid's kindness, so I wasn't worried about myself. I just needed fish for Toothless, chicken for Stormfly, and something cooked for Astrid. Plus water. I wondered if I could make it to the great hall and back in one trip.

But before I left, I quickly leaned in close to Astrid and stole a kiss on her cheek. She playfully pushed me away with a wry grin.

"The food's getting cold," she said. Definitely a hint to get something for her.

I left Astrid's house and walked the short distance to the great hall, my legs shaking just slightly from having to straddle Toothless' neck so much. Outside, I noticed the sun was mostly set, painting the sky in dark orange and purple.

I walked in, noticing several Vikings either milling around or eating their supper. Snotlout and Gustav were there and noticed me walking through.

Snotlout jumped up and grabbed my right arm, dragging me toward Gustav. "I hope you're happy," he said with a scowl.

"Snotlout, this is not a good time. You're gonna have to wait until later."

"You shoulda left Toothless with either me or Gustav. But _Astrid_ …" he said, slurring her name. "…couldn't figure out what to do with him."

Before they could truly corner me, I brushed past Gustav and didn't even look at them. "Sounds great," I said, cutting Snotlout off. I didn't ask him if he could do a better job at taking care of Toothless than Astrid because it would have given him an opportunity to hurl another insult.

But as I reached the end of the table, an idea hit me. I slowly turned back around.

"Poor Toothless," Snotlout taunted. "He hates Astrid _so_ much."

I glanced at Snotlout for a beat, then turned my gaze to Gustav. "You," I said, pointing at him.

Gustav's eyes went slightly wide, then he pointed at his chest. "Me?" he asked stupidly.

I nodded. "Help me carry food back to Astrid's."

"Why?" he shot back. "All she knows how to do is kill a Night Fury."

Just like normal, Gustav was doing his best to mimic Snotlout. Time for bargaining. "If you want to be part of the Academy so bad, you're gonna help."

Gustav scowled, but slowly got to his feet. He grumbled as he followed me toward our food stocks for the evening.

"Two baskets, one with fish, the other with chicken," I instructed tersely. I grabbed a plate with a cooked fish and looped the handles of three buckets full of water over my left forearm.

"I guess this is enough?" Gustav asked without feeling.

I looked at the baskets. He actually did it right without any extra clarification. I nodded. "Good enough." Without another word, I started walking.

"Hey, wait!" Gustav called. He started waddling in my direction, following me with the two baskets.

I glanced back once, but continued walking. And soon, we reached Astrid's house once again. But I didn't walk in with Gustav. Astrid and I had about the same opinion of him, and it wasn't favorable.

"Thanks, Gustav," I said to him. "You can go back if you want."

"Gladly," he nearly shouted, rolling his eyes. And made too obvious of a show storming back to the great hall.

I walked through Astrid's door carrying the water and her cooked fish. Placed the fish in front of her, and put the water on the floor next to the table for now. Returned outside and grabbed the two baskets.

"Thanks, Hiccup," Astrid said as she started on her fish.

"Anytime," I replied. I placed the basket of chicken next to Astrid so she could feed Stormfly later. Brought Toothless' fish with me and placed it near his head. I looked into the basket for a fish and saw there were two eels on top of the pile. I groaned in frustration as I pulled a fish out. And held it near Toothless' snout.

Toothless curled his snout slightly as he smelled the fish. And slowly, he opened his mouth and moved his head forward just a little, trying to get to the fish. He grabbed onto its tail, pulled it into his mouth and swallowed.

I sighed in relief. Immediately, I grabbed another fish, avoiding the eels in the basket and went through the same production. And by the third fish, Toothless had figured out the rhythm. He was moving his head in anticipation of the fish, rather than in response to it. I took that as a good sign.

As he finished the last of the fish, I took the basket outside so Astrid's house wouldn't begin smelling bad. She was feeding Stormfly her chicken, so I sat down again next to Toothless' right side. And began stroking his neck and shoulders. I soon fell asleep listening to his steady breathing.


	11. Chapter 11

Toothless woke me up with a low rumble. He was licking the side of my face. I blearily opened my eyes and slowly focused to find my dragon staring back at me. He made eye contact with me and moaned softly. Probably asking me to wake up or something like that.

I tried to move at first, but quickly found his right front leg wrapped around my waist. I distinctly remembered falling asleep near his wing. Not his neck. But at this point, I didn't care. Little gestures like this helped me to forget there was an actual world out there. He was making sure to keep me nearby. Toothless did the same thing when I stupidly went looking for him in the waist-deep snow during our short time with a pack of Speed Stingers.

Without thinking, I turned toward him and wrapped his neck in a tight hug, thankful he was okay. And thankful he still loved me. All of my pent-up guilt, worry, and fear from the last week escaped in a sharp burst of air from my lungs. Several tears escaped my eyes as I felt the world lift off of my shoulders. Toothless barely even had to do anything, and he could still work his magic.

After a minute or so, I pulled away from Toothless and looked him in the eyes again. Stroked his cheek with my left hand. "Thanks, buddy," I whispered. He blinked. I still wasn't sure if his responses were in understanding, or if he was simply aware of me talking to him. I chose to believe the former for now. It sounded better that way.

Toothless leaned slightly into my hand, telling me to continue what I was doing. He was lying on the floor, my back propped against his side and just forward of his right wing. I still felt the slats of his ribs, but that would take time to recover.

I took a deep breath, the area around me smelling like fish, and exhaled. For the first time in about a week, I felt truly happy.

Several footsteps announced themselves as someone was ambling in our direction. To my right, Astrid crouched down and looked at me from almost eye-level.

"You won't believe what he did last night," she said quietly.

I stared at her for a moment. "Try me."

"You fell asleep right after you fed Toothless. It didn't take him five minutes to move so that he was holding onto you. And he stayed like that the entire night."

I smiled a little and glanced back at Toothless. I _did_ believe Astrid, but the magic wasn't lost on either of us.

"He's not gonna let you go," Astrid told me.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," I said with a hint of sarcasm.

As I adjusted my position to get a little more comfortable, I realized Toothless didn't eat or drink because I was gone. I had left him, and he pretty much lost his will to live. I just hoped I wouldn't have to leave him again in the near future. Next time, I probably wouldn't get so lucky.

I tried to get out of his grip again, all to the same result. Toothless wouldn't move. Maybe I could slither my way out of his grasp, but it would take too much effort. Instead, I tried a different tactic.

"Let's go flying, bud," I suggested to him.

Immediately, Toothless' eyes brightened. He sprang up, letting me go, and began nudging me using his snout. His way of showing excitement.

Astrid giggled as I pushed Toothless away just long enough to stand. As I found my footing, he continued to nudge me with his snout, pushing me toward the door.

"Does Stormfly ever do this to you?" I asked comically as Toothless herded me closer to the door.

Astrid laughed. "Never."

I reached the door and pulled it open. Toothless bounded out and turned around with an urgent grunt. Astrid was out next, me bringing up the rear.

"C'mon, Hiccup. Race ya," Astrid said.

I got onto Toothless' back just as Astrid climbed on to Stormfly. Without warning, they took off. Toothless hunkered and jumped, getting air underneath us.

I leaned forward in the saddle, making my position more aerodynamic. Toothless took that as a cue and sped toward Stormfly. It barely took him a few seconds, and I was already feeling tears in my eyes from the rushing wind.

Astrid turned around in her saddle and nudged Stormfly with her right foot. They were off again, several yards in front of us. I kept my attention on Stormfly and followed Toothless' lead. I felt when he wanted to turn or slow down through subtle cues in his neck and midsection. And it took no thought to adjust to what he wanted.

I lost myself in the flight, simply keeping my attention on Astrid and Stormfly. But it didn't take long for Toothless to begin to wear down. I had expected this, after not eating or drinking for three days. I could only ask Toothless for a short flight at the moment.

Panting heavily, Toothless set down near the forge. I dismounted and slowly walked him up the steps into the great hall. I never pushed him or tried to get him to hurry. I played by his rules, and in return, I got his friendship. I didn't want it any other way.

We were about to enter the great hall when Stormfly landed next to us. "What happened to you?" Astrid asked. "Too scared to race us?"

I shrugged and decided to give her an empty victory. "You shoulda seen me shaking before we took off," I said in complete sarcasm.

Astrid rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right, Hiccup. What happened?" she asked with more emphasis than last time.

"Toothless can't keep up with you until he's healthy again," I explained.

"He's healthy n…" She stopped herself. "Oh. How long is it gonna take?"

I shrugged. "Guess we'll find out," I said cryptically. "We're gonna keep trying until Toothless can keep up with you and Stormfly."

Astrid smiled as she dismounted Stormfly's back. She walked up to the doors and pulled them open.

I sat Toothless down near an empty table and walked to the back of the great hall. Filled a basket with fish for him and selected one that was cooked for myself. A bucketful of water caught my attention, so I grabbed it as well. When I returned to the table, Stormfly was waiting there.

I approached Toothless, who was still panting. Put the bucket in front of him. He sniffed at it, then started lapping the water. He drank slowly, taking the occasional break to breathe. I waited for him to finish with the water before offering him any fish to eat. I opened the basket for him, and he stuck his head in. Pulled out a single fish and looked at me. Swallowed it with a grunt and then returned to his meal.

I felt like I was seeing everything Toothless did for the first time, even though we had been through all of these productions and routines hundreds of times before. I ate slowly, watching Toothless work through his basket of fish. He was generally oblivious to anyone nearby, only focusing on his meal. And he was enjoying it. I knew he'd soon shove his head into the basket, looking for any morsels that evaded him. Then he'd get the basket stuck on his head for a few seconds and have to work it off.

Sure enough, it didn't take long for Toothless to bring his head up, fully stuck in the basket, just like normal. He used a front paw to push the basket off, where it fell to the floor. He looked around himself for a second or two, licking his lips and then padded over to my side. He sat back on his haunches, watching me. Guarding me. And on my other side, Astrid and Stormfly were enjoying their own meals.

Moments like this reminded me of how lucky I was to live on Berk. Something like this would never happen on Berserker Island.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone sneaking up behind Toothless. He had a helmet that was way too big for his head, so it sank down about halfway over his eyes and rattled around every time he took a step. Before I could say anything, Toothless glanced in his direction and returned to all fours. He hunkered down and began growling slightly at Gustav.

"Someday, I'll get him," Gustav called to me.

 _Fat chance, kid,_ I thought.

The magic of the moment ruined, I sighed as I gathered our plates and baskets. Took them to the back of the great hall for cleaning.

I walked back toward Toothless, but decided to try something today. I wouldn't have time to coax a random dragon into the arena, so I'd have to trust I could do this with Toothless. I walked up to Gustav, who was sitting by himself, staring at the table in front of him.

"Gustav, we're going to the Academy. Meet us there in half an hour," I told him.

As I turned away, I saw his eyes brighten. He sprang up from his seat, shouting something excitedly, but I didn't really pay attention to him.

I walked back to Toothless and guided him out of the great hall, Astrid and Stormfly in tow.

"You're gonna give Gustav another chance at the Academy?" she asked.

"Yeah. Why not?" I replied.

"He's a mini-Snotlout," she said in disgust.

"I'm gonna try something different with him today," I said.

We walked into the arena, where I left Toothless with Astrid. "Keep him company," I told her. "I'll be back with another dragon."

"He's not gonna like you for that," Astrid pointed out.

I didn't say anything as I returned to the great hall and grabbed a fish as bait. I walked into the plaza, holding the fish near my chest and waited. We had several dragons who were generally used to the Vikings around Berk, and within about five minutes, one of them wandered up to me. It was a muted green Monstrous Nightmare. I grinned slightly. Gustav would be excited about this.

I slowly walked backward, holding the fish in front of the dragon's snout. The dragon followed until we got to the opening of the arena. At this point, I had to let the dragon decide. The arena, to a Monstrous Nightmare, was an enclosed space. The dragon knew I could keep it hostage there. There was no way for me to explain that wasn't my intention to the dragon. I just had to trust it would follow me.

I backed into the arena, where Toothless grunted in curiosity. The dragon eventually made the decision to follow the fish. I moved across from Toothless, making sure to position the dragon so that it could see Toothless with its peripheral vision.

The dragon finally took the fish out of my hand and swallowed before it noticed the presence of two other dragons nearby. It looked around, and I immediately felt a change in the atmosphere. The Nightmare was sizing up Toothless and Stormfly.

I made a show of slowly walking back to Toothless and put a hand on the back of his neck. I rubbed behind his head, and he quickly relaxed.

The Nightmare must have seen what happened to Toothless, so it slowly approached to investigate. This was where I absolutely had to trust all of the dragons here. I couldn't predict whether the Monstrous Nightmare was gonna fly into a rage.

The Nightmare came within a couple yards of Toothless' face, trying to figure out whether to attack or defend itself. Toothless simply looked at the dragon, waiting for it to decide. Even though I had trained him well, he was still a dragon, and he still had instincts.

Eventually, the Nightmare figured it was generally safe and relaxed. It turned its focus toward Stormfly and went through the same production, although this time the interaction was much quicker. Soon, the Nightmare turned away from our two dragons, exposing its backside for attack. It began exploring the area, slithering around and looking at the different objects nearby, in some cases trying to smell them.

"That's always difficult," Astrid said with a sigh of relief.

I nodded at her. "Hopefully, the dragon stays long enough for Gustav to arrive."

As if on cue, Gustav announced his presence by barging into the arena and shouting, "I'M HERE! Let's begin, oh, Master Hiccup!"

The Monstrous Nightmare jumped in surprise, whipped around and glared at Gustav. I stepped between the two of them, my back to the dragon.

"You ready?" I asked, trying my hardest not to admonish Gustav about his behavior. My goal was to have him figure out what to do if he wanted a dragon so badly.

"What kind of question is _that_!?" he shouted.

 _Some things just never change,_ I thought. "All right. Let's try this," I mused. "Do you think you can get this dragon to trust you by the day's end?"

"Hiccup, are you stupid?" Gustav shot back. "Of course I can." He made to walk toward the dragon.

I stopped him before he could get past me. "Warning: You have to figure it out yourself," I said.

That seemed to register in Gustav's mind. He looked at me. "What happens if the dragon flies away?" he asked.

Inside, I did a fist pump. He was listening to me. "That wouldn't be good, would it?," I said quickly. I made eye contact, making sure my question to him sank in.

"Oh." He paused in thought. Gustav knew this dragon could be a good replacement for Fanghook, but he must have also been aware of how his former dragon had so abruptly deserted him. "How do I start?" he asked carefully.

"Give it something to eat, like a fish," I suggested.

Gustav grumbled slightly. "I've gotta go back to the great hall, right?"

I nodded.

He paused for a moment, then made his decision. He took off running toward the great hall.

I backed away from the Nightmare until I reached Toothless. And stroked his neck gently, feeling him relax under my touch again. The Nightmare watched Toothless again and approached, this time a lot more confidently. As soon as the dragon got near us, I slowly broke off from Toothless and scratched under the Nightmare's chin. The dragon relaxed, just like Toothless did. I didn't think it was too difficult to gain a dragon's trust when it was already primed for human interaction.

"This is gonna be fun," Astrid said. She had a mix of sarcasm and anticipation in her voice.

I nodded again. "Telling Gustav what to do didn't work, so this time I'm gonna let him figure it out. Even if he gets hurt."

Astrid giggled slightly. "Wanna bet on how many bandages he'll need?"

"Both arms and a leg," I said quickly. I paused. "Right leg," I clarified.

We smiled at each other. And broke down in a fit of laughter.

* * *

 **Author's note: Thanks to everyone who commented, favorited or followed this story. As always, comments, reviews and suggestions are welcome. Thanks for reading!**


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